


Mafia Wife Will Graham-Lecter and Don Lecter

by kelex



Series: The Masterlist of AU Series [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: A/B/O, ABO, AU, AU of an AU, M/M, Mafia AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelex/pseuds/kelex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is a trained assassin, available for the right price.  Don Hannibal Lecter is a wealthy and powerful Mafioso, who has used Will's services on many occasions.  However, he's broken one of the biggest rules the Family has in place; don't mingle with the help.  His marriage to Will Graham has upset many an apple cart, but no one dares cross the Don or his deadly wife.  But between Family challenges and massive egos, somehow everybody gets their fingers in the pie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cast of Characters

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Don Lecter and his wife, Will Graham-Lecter](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/305904) by teacupmosaic.tumblr.com. 



> JawnsJumper. You're to blame for all of this. First Chapter is Cast of Characters, plus a few notes on the A/B/O AU. Actual stories begin in Chapter Two.

**Don Hannibal Lecter** : Born to an Italian mother and Lithuanian father, Hannibal has the personal fortune of a minor European nobleman to juggle as well as his financial ties to the Family. His mother was the daughter of a Don, and he was raised to take his grandfather's place. And he has, with gusto. Both he and the Family have profited from Hannibal's connections, and currently, his largest source of income is a booming drug trade in heroin and other opiates. His day job, however, is that of psychiatrist, Dr. Lecter. It is something he is quite proud of, and has a private practice with a few elite patients. He has a large estate home in Lithuania, that is curated by a cousin, and his home in the States is currently located in Baltimore, MD. Three stories, chef's kitchen, the works, with more than enough guest rooms for occasional visits from his Family or Will's. He is an avid poker player (standard/classic), and often holds games for the household. (In the A/B/O AU, Hannibal is an Alpha, bonded and mated to Will Graham.)

**Mafia Wife Will Graham-Lecter** Prior to his marriage to the Don, Will Graham was an incredibly successful, incredibly deadly assassin. He was trained by Frederick Chilton, a.k.a. Fast Freddie, known for being able to kill you so quickly you don't even realize that you're dead. Frederick and Will worked together for only a few years before Will moved on, and established his own reputation for sniping and wetwork. Will has taken on two proteges of his own, who are equally as deadly as he and building their own reputations. He was often contracted out by the Family, especially Don Lecter, when the Family was establishing their presence in the drug trade on the East Coast. After some years and twelve contracts, Hannibal finally proposed to Will, and Will accepted. The wedding was lavish, even by the Family standards, but since then, there's been nothing but chafing. After all, you don't marry the help. Will's tastes in clothes, shoes, pretty much everything, is very high end, and he often uses shopping trips as covers for contracts. (In the A/B/O AU, Will Graham is an Omega, and both bonded and mated to Hannibal Lecter. In the A/B/O AU, it is worse for Will because he is capable of having pups, which the Family wishes to avoid at all costs because they feel it would pollute the bloodline.)

See [Don Lecter and his wife, Will Graham-Lecter](https://teacupmosaic.tumblr.com/post/162815370161/a-wonderful-gift-commissioned-for-the-lovely), in stunning full color. By teacupmosaic.tumblr.com. 

**Matthew Brown** Matthew Brown is an up-and-coming "made man" who works for Don Lecter. Within the Lecter household, it's a well-known but never-referenced fact that Matthew has a thing for Mrs. Lecter, but causes a great deal of chafing between the Don and his man. Will, however, is either oblivious to, or just doesn't care about, Matthew's crush, and often chooses Matthew for his personal bodyguard and shopping companion. Unknown to Matthew, there is a betting pool among the Lecter staff as to when, exactly, the Don is going to get around to murdering Matthew Brown. Hannibal's bet is placed anonymously for six months; Will's bet is placed anonymously as well, for never. When Will wins, (and he always wins) he splits the money with oddsmaker and pool-runner Barney. Matthew is also an avid poker player, although he prefers Texas Hold'Em. When Hold 'Em is the game, Matthew is always the winner, and has won several tournaments in Reno and Atlantic City. (In the A/B/O AU, Matthew is a young Alpha that is devoted to Omega Will. Hannibal can't help but see him as competition, and there is often discord between warring Alphas.)

**Francis Dolarhyde** Francis Dolarhyde is personally employed by Will Graham-Lecter, a fact which chafes Hannibal at times. Francis is incredibly loyal to Mrs. Lecter, and to the Don by extension, but if it came down to choosing, he'd choose Will over Hannibal. Having been born with a cleft palate, Francis was bullied quite a bit as a child, and has become a bodybuilder to make up for that. He's probably the only person in the house who is close to matching Hannibal's physique. Will is personally very loyal to Francis, and he is the only one of the house staff to receive a secret nickname--Frankie. He is very calm and laid back, in the sense that it is difficult to ruffle his feathers on most things, but when the Lecters are in danger, he has absolutely no chill in the least. Most of the Family assume that Will has had an affair with Francis at least once, but in truth, they've never thought of each other like that. (In the A/B/O AU, Francis is an Alpha who gets along with Will so well that he is the one who is called to calm him down and take care of him when Hannibal is unavailable. They've never had sex and never will, because Francis doesn't see Will like that.)

**Barney Matthews** Barney is the Jack of All Trades of the Lecter staff. His day job is nominally as a nurse at Hannibal's practice, doubling as receptionist and occasional bouncer, but his real job is drug capo. Barney is responsible for the receipt of, repackaging, and distribution of, any and all drugs or drug money that passes through the Lecter empire. He tries not to get involved in the tawdry goings on. He's generally the head of the poker game, he keeps up with who owes who what, and is always a trusted card dealer. He also runs a small off-site gambling operation, mostly odds on football, baseball, basketball. He runs a private pool on the death of Matthew Brown, and he is the only one who knows that both Hannibal and Will bet, too, because they place the bets anonymously through him. (In the A/B/O AU, Barney is the only Beta working for the Lecters.)

**Frederick Chilton** Frederick, a.k.a. Fast Freddie, is Will's mentor and trainer. Frederick is probably the most successful and certainly the quickest assassin on record. He took Will on as protege, taught him everything he knew, and they worked as a team for a few years before Will split off on his own. There is still the possibility that they could team up again, but so far, that opportunity hasn't arisen. Frederick and Will were also lovers--more like friends with benefits, because neither was monogamous to the other. When he married Hannibal, Chilton is the one who stood up for him. Though he is still active in the field, Frederick likes to consider himself semi-retired, and has made a home in Baltimore, and he and Will have lunch together at least a couple of times a month, if not more often. (In the A/B/O AU, Chilton is Will's First Alpha. When he's mated to Hannibal, Chilton is the one to give him away. )

**Ardelia Mapp** Ardelia is Will's first protege, and his most successful. She lives with her girlfriend, Clarice Starling, and her day job is au pair, which allows her to move around and seamlessly integrate herself in the lives of her marks. Her relationship with Clarice is sometimes tumultuous, resulting in on-again, off-again dynamics which never fail to amuse Will. They speak often on the phone, but don't get to visit in person as much as either would like. (In the A/B/O AU, Ardelia is a female Alpha, and Clarice Starling is her Omega.) 

**Chiyoh** Chiyoh is Will's second protege, and his most mysterious. He speaks to her only once in awhile, but he doesn't doubt her loyalty. When she is not on a contract, Will has no idea where she hides herself, and apparently, she likes it that way. She is the only person in the business that can out-shoot Will. Little else is known about her. (Chiyoh has not yet made an appearance in the A/B/O AU)

 

In the A/B/O AU, here's what you need to know:

  * Alphas have the sharpest teeth. Females are sharper than males.
  * Omegas have the second sharpest teeth, used primarily for mating bites and if necessary, self-defense. Female Omegas have sharper teeth than the males
  * Betas have the third sharpest teeth. Female Betas have sharper teeth than male Betas.
  * Males have one extra set of incisors; Females have the regular number.
  * Slick is produced always, in varying quantities, and viscosities. With copious thinner slick production increased near estrus. So, as a general rule. The further from estrus the Omega, the less thin the slick.
  * Alphas can use both come and urine to scent-mark their mates, although urine is only used in highly-charged situations where an Alpha needs to maintain control of their mate.
  * Omegas who are pregnant lactate to feed their pups. They also nest. Like, seriously nest.



**Mechanics**  
The canal of an omega remains relaxed during and after knotting, to ease in  
A- the taking of the tie itself,  
B- the seal the knot forms,


	2. A/B/O AU:  Pre-Marriage Mafia Wife Will Graham-Lecter and the Phone Sex Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's doing another job for the Lecter family, but takes a little time out for some recreational action with his Alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Graham/Frederick Chilton, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter. Daddykink in a big way.

"Oh, really? That hard?" Will's voice sounded so concerned. "Guess we should do something about that."

A groan sounded on the other end of the call, a mix of amusement, exasperation, and adoration with a dash of misery. "You tease me now, little Omega, but you do have to come home."

"But not at the moment, so." Will licked his lips. "So tell me what you do to naughty little omegas who cocktease their alphas?"

Frederick laughed huskily. "Oh no, my horny darling, that's not the way things work. You are the one telling me what you're doing to earn my knot."

Will squirmed in car's front seat, which woke Hannibal Lecter, who'd been dozing in the back. "Should I start with a kiss? Lick your lips, bite your tongue, scrape my teeth along your lower lip?"

Hannibal was dazed from the nap, but there was no way in hell he was going back to sleep, not after that.

"Mmm, that's a good start. Put me on speakerphone; if you touch yourself, I want to hear it." Frederick's voice was not to be disobeyed. "Because I know you can't keep your hands to yourself. Dirty boy."

The hollow sound of speakerphone mixed with the sound of Will's zipper. "Only dirty for you, Daddy, you love it when your little boy makes a mess for you."

Hannibal's eyes were wide, and he was biting his lip. Wondering if there was any way out of the car.

Chilton groaned softly, but it resonated inside the car. "And what are you doing for Daddy, Will? How's my little boy going to get dirty?"

"Playing with myself," Will answered in a pant. "I'm already slick and wet for your knot, I can feel how slippery I am." Another moan, and "… my balls already ache, Daddy, and I need your knot." His voice trembled as his body spasmed around emptiness. "Gotta touch my cock, please, Daddy, stroke it for me."

Hannibal had his hands over his ears, but he could still hear every word, smell the sterile slick coming from Will's hole. And if he didn't get ahold of things, Hannibal was considering humping the back seat.

"Touch yourself, Will, just like me," Frederick ordered. "Stroke hard, let me hear you beg Daddy. And if you're very good and make Daddy happy, he'll give you a surprise."

The order to touch himself had him groaning and bucking up against the steering wheel. He was tearing at his zipper and pulling his pants down when two big hands came around and over the seat. Wide-eyed, he watched as Hannibal worked his fingers into Will's underwear and brought it up to Will's mouth. "Suck," he whispered silently, because he wasn't able to avoid the Omega sex scent any longer.

Will moaned loudly as fingers pushed between his lips, and he sucked loudly, slurping around Hannibal's digits.

The obscene slurping noises had Chilton groaning louder than before.

Will let Hannibal's fingers slip free with a pop. "Daddy want a taste of his boy's wet hole?"

"Daddy wants your hole hungry for his cock," Chilton ground out. "Going to knot you so hard you can't walk, pack you so full of Daddy's come it's going to drip down your legs."

Hannibal's fingers pressed back into Will's underwear, and rubbed the slick over and around Will's opening without penetrating because Will wasn't his to knot.

Will's groaning made Hannibal's knot swell. "Rubbing my slick everywhere, I'm so ready, Daddy please." He looked right at Hannibal when he begged. "Please."

The only sounds for a long moment were the meaty thud of Frederick's fist on his cock and the whimpering as Hannibal rubbed his fingers in circles around Will's slicked hole.

"Baby boy, you make Daddy so hot. Daddy packed you a little surprise in your gun case. Tell me when you find it."

The long case was in the passenger seat, and Will leaned over to get it. The movement had Hannibal's fingers right at his opening, and before he could move them, Will leaned back and impaled himself. Two fingers entered instantly and Will muffled the groan as he snapped the case open.

Behind the velvet lining of the case lay a long plastic cock that Will recognized. "Oh, God, thank you, Daddy, you gave me your cock."

"In it goes, baby boy, down to the knot and don't stop until you're stuffed like a bitch in heat."

Hannibal was pulling his slick-drenched fingers out even as Will was eagerly lining the dildo up with his hole. Grabbing the knot, Hannibal pushed roughly as Will's hungry body sucked it in.

Will cried out in pleasure as he was penetrated, and then sealed by the knot. "D-daddy, let me ride it, please let me ride your cock, make you come knowing your cock is making me beg."

"You like Daddy's present? Only dirty boys beg for Daddy's cock, but just this once, I'll say yes to that hungry hole."

Will sobbed in relief as he started rocking his hips against the dildo. He cried out when it started moving, and he realized Hannibal was fucking him with it.

The wet squelch of slick against plastic was loud, and Chilton was panting. "Squeeze it, oh, fuck, squeeze Daddy's cock and milk the come out."

Will's moans took on a frantic pitch as he squeezed hard. He held the knot inside, but Hannibal didn't stop fucking Will with the dildo.

The car was filling with Alpha rut, and Hannibal was going to pop his knot soon.

Chilton cursed loudly–"Fucking filthy boy, taking all of Daddy's come, suck it out with that tight ass!" as he came. "Don't come. Leave the knot in until tonight, and I'll call you back and let you come." The phone disconnected.

Will looked helplessly at the Alpha, his cock aching. "Please."

"Get back here." Hannibal couldn't stand to see–or smell–the Omega suffering.

Will vaulted the seat easily and landed in Hannibal's lap. He reached immediately for Hannibal's zipper, freeing what he knew was a hard cock. But his mouth all but watered at," Jesus fuck," he breathed. "Your knot's so fucking huge, Daddy."

"Because of you, Will. Turn around, let me help you."

Will moved so his back was to Hannibal's chest, and a warm hand wrapped around his cock. He moaned softly, and Hannibal murmured sweetly in his ear to calm him. Little bits of Italian poetry, a few lines of Dante. Will's name, over and over, a few words of Lithuanian, a whisper of Japanese.

Slowly Will calmed, and Hannibal started stroking. Will squirmed, until he felt Hannibal's knot nudging against his balls and the Alpha's cock nestled between his thighs.

Hannibal moaned softly in warning, feeling Will's thighs clenching his cock.

"I gave you the problem, Daddy, let me help you out with it," Will begged.

"Ssh, this is for you, Will. Close your eyes, feel my hand on your cock, and push into it. Come hard, for me. Our secret," Hannibal promised.

"Our secret," Will repeated, hips bucking up in rhythm with Hannibal's strokes, grunting as he moved faster.

Hannibal gave the base Will's cock a rough squeeze, and the Omega came hard. He shuddered through the orgasm, then lay slack against Hannibal's strong body.

Hannibal rubbed his cock between Will's thighs, the friction swelling his knot even further until he was coming. He soaked Will's thighs until they were both dripping, and Will hadn't moved an inch.

Hannibal was content, letting Will drowse in omega afterglow until he was ready to move again. The toy was still inside, and Hannibal eased it out with a small whimper from Will.

He wondered if he should be worried about how natural it felt to care for this young man, and decided he didn't care.

It pleased him, and that was enough.

End


	3. mafia wife will graham and the stripper pole (sex, stripping, teasing, and yes, cross-dressing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal has, at the request of his wife, had a stripper pole erected in the bedroom.

A full third of the bedroom was devoted to it. There wasn't a real dance floor feel to it, but the colored strobe lights helped get that tacky vibe such a thing required. 

Floor to ceiling silver, and both the ceiling tile and the floors had been specifically reinforced before installation. 

A pole.

Will had asked for it, and of course, Don Lecter couldn't say no to his lovely bat-guano insane beloved wife. If anyone thought he was whipped, well. They never said anything to his face.

And there were certain benefits of having a private pole in your private room.

This was one of them. 

Hannibal had come into the bedroom, locked the doors, and nearly jumped out of his skin when AC/DC bellowed out of the speakers in the ceiling. Thank God for soundproofing. 

"Will, darling, could you–" He'd meant to ask Will to turn the music down, he really had.  
But when he realized that Will was currently dangling upside-down from the top of the pole, waiting for a kiss, he kind of got off-track.

Leaning forward, Hannibal pressed a kiss to Will's waiting lips, barely smudging the cherry-red lipstick. But when he tried to touch further, Will twirled out of reach.

He ended up with Will's bare foot on his chest. "Look but don't touch, my old man is one jealous prick." Red-painted toes slid down the front of Hannibal's white shirt.

A gray felt fedora went sailing by Hannibal's head. "Just a little touch, baby? I can take your old man," Hannibal replied, playing along.

Will's feet touched the floor, and he peeked around the pole, one leg extended with a wiggle, inviting Hannibal to peel off the fishnet. "He's a real bad man, but he gets me hotter than a June bug in a skillet." Will's Louisiana drawl crept into his voice, and he pulled his leg away.

Hannibal was left holding an empty stocking.

He tossed the empty fishnet aside and stalked towards the pole, where Will was hanging, naked leg anchoring him as he slipped down to the floor and out of Hannibal's grasp. "You like them bad? I can be bad, bad as you can imagine," he promised. 

His reward was the second stocking tossed at him. It smelled delicious, like Will's cologne and sex and sweat. Apparently his wife liked stripping; who knew?

"Can't nobody be bad like my man." An almost coquettish bat of dark lashes. "He once killed a man while I was under his desk, and he never missed a stroke. I never came so hard in my life, creamed my panties but good," he confided.

Every word out of Will's mouth was mesmerizing, because Hannibal wasn't accustomed to the accent, but he liked it. It was making him hard, and so was Will's flexibility, because he was stretched in a full arch, belly rippling as he slid down the pole into a handstand, then rolled out of it and into a split.

"I killed a man once for walking in on me and my wife. Spread out over the desk, waiting for me, and some idiot barged into the office. Shot him right there and went right back to work eating," Hannibal bragged.

Will shook his head, but his eyes were laughing. "Still can't touch my man, he's like as not to kill you just for lookin'." Will's accent dropped the hard g sound entirely.

Then he dropped the pinstripe short jacket, leaving his chest bare and sweaty. 

Hannibal's breathing was raw as he watched Will roll to his feet. He grabbed the pole about halfway up, then fell into a crouch and started thrusting against the pole. With each twerk of his ass, Will rolled the booty shorts down further and further. 

Hannibal reached out to help pull them loose, but Will spun out of reach again. "Hands, mister!"

"I'll show you hands." When Will twirled out to kick off the shorts, Hannibal caught him by the tie–the only thing Will was left wearing–and reeled him in.

His hands landed on Will's ass with loud dual smacks, and he backed his wife against the pole. "Go ahead, yell for your old man."

Will dropped his arms around Hannibal's neck. "Hannibal, please!"

"Again," Hannibal growled. 

"Hannibal, thank God you're here! There was a man here thought he could put his hands on me, but I told him, nobody but my man."

Hannibal squeezed Will's ass tighter, hauling him in close and settling them groin to groin as he rolled his hips. "Don't worry about him. I'm here, I know how to take care of you," Hannibal purred into Will's ear.

Will groaned, his nails digging into the back of Hannibal's neck. "Fuck me," he breathed, his cock twitching against Hannibal's zipper. 

"Maybe if you dance for me again I might," Hannibal countered, panting softly.

A low laugh sounded in Hannibal's ear, and went straight to his cock. "Mister, I'll dance for you any time you want." The accent was back, and Hannibal shuddered. 

His husband's shudders is all Will needed, and he came hard, staining the front of Hannibal's slacks. The hot spread of heat against his cock had Hannibal coming in his briefs, and he rested his head against the pole. 

"Dry cleaner's going to love this," Will whispered in Hannibal's ear. 

End


	4. mafia wife will graham and the foot rub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Hannibal's busy looking for a woman that'll make the Family happy, Will's looking for something to piss him off a little closer to home.

Will was lying on the bed, watching Hannibal get ready for his evening out. "Red's always your color, honey," he said sweetly, feet crossed at the ankles and wearing silver fuck-me pumps--the ones he knew drove Hannibal a little out of his mind. He was on his stomach, which meant those pumps were high in the air as his feet kicked. 

"Red's for you, darling," Hannibal pointed out calmly, bypassing his red ties and waistcoats. "How about blue?"

"Blue's handsome." Will's legs were in a pair of sheer fishnets, and she was watching Hannibal in the mirror, because he was watching Will. "Missed a button there, sweetie." 

Hannibal looked down at the blue waistcoat and saw that he had skipped a button on the way down. Sighing, he quickly fixed the error and finished buttoning up, and then picked up his suit coat. "I should be home around midnight, perhaps one."

"That's fine, Matty's going to keep me company tonight."

Hannibal froze in mid-step. "No, I believe Antonio was scheduled to watch the house tonight." 

"Oh, Tony's coming over, but since you're going out, I called Matthew. I feel better when I have a man in the house with me." Will contrived to look innocent. "We're going to watch Netflix and pop some popcorn."

"There's no need to bother Matthew, darling. Antonio is more than enough company to keep you safe and amused." And Antonio was happily married, two kids, one more on the way, and actually *not* attracted to Hannibal's wife. Which, come to think of it, is probably why Hannibal *favored* Antonio more than Matthew motherfucking Brown.

"Oh, it's not a bother. Matty said it would be an honor to come and spend the evening with me." The doorbell rang, and Will vaulted off the bed, checking the diamond watch on his wrist. "That'll be him now. Have a good evening!" He kissed Hannibal's cheek and bounced down the stairs, calling out "I've got it!" 

Hannibal very calmly finished tying his tie, and swung his arms into his jacket. The gun in the pocket was a comforting weight, and he tried very hard not to imagine shoving it in Matthew's piehole and pulling the trigger. Although it *was* quite a satisfying image. 

By the time he got downstairs, Matthew was in the kitchen with Will, being loaded up with snacks like a pack mule. "Good evening, Don Lecter," he said respectfully in greeting. 

"Evening, Matthew. Will, darling, don't be too cruel." He took the bottles of beer out of Will's hands, sat them on the kitchen island, and kissed him quite possessively. One of Will's legs lifted and wrapped around Hannibal's hip, and his fingers deliberately mussed Hannibal's carefully styled hair. "Enjoy your evening."

"Oh, we will, don't worry." Will made sure to leave lipstick on Hannibal's collar when he pulled back from the kiss, and his stiletto brushed the back of Hannibal's calf, just to remind him what he was leaving behind. "Bye, darling, enjoy yourself!" 

Hannibal's back was stiff as he left the house, and Will's smirk faded as soon as the Lexus' motor turned over. 

It wasn't difficult for Matthew to notice the change in Will's temper, and he put all the snacks down to put a respectful hand on his shoulder. "Is there something wrong, Mrs. Lecter?"

"Oh, please, call me Will," he said, brushing off any sort of distancing politeness. "And no, I'm just being an angry and resentful bitch because my husband's going out on a date with some blonde hussy from the titty club." 

Matthew swallowed hard at that. "You know about it?"

Will laughed. "Matty, I picked her out." He patted Matthew on the face. "It's a long story, and I don't want to talk about it right now. I want to get buzzed and watch *Orange Is the New Black* or something equally outrageous so I can forget about husbands, blondes, and tight-ass fuckers who don't like me." 

Matthew obediently scooped up the snacks again, and Will carried half a dozen brown beer bottles into the theater room, where Hannibal's 78" curved big-screen sat. There were no chairs, just large lounging couches, and right in the middle was a white leather couch big enough to hold both Will and Hannibal together. 

Will dropped his ass right onto the white sofa, and patted the space beside him. "Come on, bring the popcorn and the ice cream on, I'm ready to be a pig."

"You could never be a pig, Mrs--uh, Will." 

"You overestimate my emotional stability."

\-----

It was a quarter of two in the morning when Hannibal pulled the Lexus into the garage. He wanted nothing more than to go upstairs, shower the stink of this crass woman off his body, get in bed behind Will, and possibly attempt to entice him into sex. 

He did *not* expect giggling, or moaning. In fact, the moaning he was expecting was usually the kind reserved for *him.* 

"Oh, God, right there. God yes. That's it," Will groaned softly. He hadn't even heard Hannibal's car come back into the garage over the blare of the TV. 

One leg was hooked over the back of the sofa, bare foot wiggling happily, and his head rested on the arm of the couch. 

Matthew was visible only in profile, leaning over Will and grinning. "Like this, Will?"

"My God, you've got great fingers, Matthew." 

Hannibal was starting to see red, and he cleared his throat as he came into the room. "Evening, my darling. Mr. Brown. Am I interrupting something?" Because obviously he was. 

But neither one moved, because the leg over the back of the couch moved to drape over Matthew's shoulder, keeping him firmly on the couch.

"Only the world's best foot massage," Will chirped happily, lifting a can of soda in a toast to his husband. Matthew had started him on soda after only one beer, and so his good mood was a direct result of the foot massage.

"I see. Isn't that what you have me for?" Hannibal asked, standing in the doorway and untying his tie. 

Will's toes wiggled in Matthew's face, encouraging him to continue. "Well, when you're not around, what am I supposed to do? Those stilettos you like are a pain in my ass *and* my feet. They make my legs look nice, so I don't complain, but. A lady's gotta do what a lady's gotta do when her man's not home to service her needs." 

"I see," Hannibal said again, because anything else he might have said would have probably led to murder. "Well, when you and Mr. Brown are done, do be quiet when you come to bed and don't wake me up." 

"Who says we're coming to bed? We're staying up all night, aren't we? Matthew's promised to paint my nails after this, and then slumber party!" Will giggled intentionally, just to piss Hannibal off a little bit more. 

Okay. That was it. He could stand a lot, and withstand a little bit more for Will, but there came a line, and his darling wife had just tap-danced right over the motherfucker. Leaning over the couch, Hannibal shoved Will's legs down, picked up the remote, and turned the TV off. "Mister Brown, I think it's time for you to go." 

Will sat up straight on the couch, glaring at Hannibal. "And I think it's time he breaks out the nail polish."

Hannibal growled softly, and Matthew didn't bother. "I think it's time to say goodnight, Will. Uh, Mrs. Lecter." 

"You can still call me Will," he said, and pecked a kiss onto Matthew's cheek. "We'll do the slumber party next time, okay?"

Matthew was about to babble a response to that, when Hannibal yanked him by the ear and dragged him through the house. He yanked him into the kitchen, and then threw him out the garage door. A slam and a lock later, they were alone in the house, because Tony had lit out as soon as he saw Hannibal's headlights. 

Stalking back into the theater, Hannibal found that Will had turned the TV back on, and was watching something animated. He snatched the remote out of his hand, turned off the television, and threw the remote against the wall, where the plastic case shattered. "You can't just get those at Radio Shack, you know," Will pointed out. 

"Will, my dearest, I do so hate to be impertinent when I ask this, but what the *fuck* is going on with you and Matthew Brown?" Hannibal raised his voice at the end, all but shouting the man's name. 

Will refused to quail under Hannibal's bad temper, and folded his bare feet under his ass. "I don't know, Hannibal, what's going on with you and… oh, what was her name, Candylicious?"

"You know damn well what is going on," Hannibal hissed angrily. "You picked her out." 

"Then you know just as good and goddamn well what is going on with me and Matty."

"I sincerely hope that you don't mean that," Hannibal said. It wasn't meant to sound like a threat, but he was certain it came out that way. It was more a desperate hope. 

"You stupid ass." Will got up and threw his shoes at Hannibal's head, viciously pleased when one heel clipped his forehead. "Not a goddamn thing is going on except for the fact that the shoes I wear to look good for you hurt my feet and he rubbed them." An explosive huff. "You can have your slut girlfriends, but I can't even look?"

"That's right," Hannibal said instantly. "You can't look, because I swear to God, if he ever lays another hand on you again, ankle, foot, goddamn pinkie toe, he's dead." He advanced on Will, determined to make sure he knew that Hannibal was utterly and completely serious. 

"Get real." Will rolled his eyes and gave no ground. "You've got your girls on the side; I don't complain about that. I vet those bitches, I pick them out, I fucking dress you to go out to them. I do everything but fuck those bitches, and seriously, fuck those bitches." When Hannibal got close enough, he poked his finger straight into Hannibal's chest. "And you're telling me I can't even *look* at something to help pass the time while you're out fucking another woman."

Hannibal's hands closed on Will's biceps and lifted him up, so that they were eye to eye, height difference be damned. "That's *exactly* what I'm saying."

"Fuck you, Don Lecter." Will's anger had been slowly simmering all night, and it boiled over at that. "Just… seriously, fuck you." 

"Not until I've had a shower, thank you." He shoved Will against the wall anyway, his weight pinning his wife there as he kissed him, hard. Didn't wait for his mouth to open, but used his tongue to pry in past Will's closed lips, until finally he had given in. His hand reached under Will's skirt, under the red silk panties, and fisted the hard cock waiting for him. "At least you didn't let him touch this," Hannibal hissed. "Because if he had…" Hannibal shuddered. "Mine, Will. You are mine, this is mine, all of you is mine." 

Will moaned loudly into Hannibal's mouth at the rough stroking, and he tried to roll his hips away. "Aren't you mine too?" he demanded. "Does that mean I get to take one of those AKs from the basement and go mow down these blondes you keep fucking?" 

Hannibal growled deep in his throat at that, letting Will slide down just enough to align their cocks to grind against each other. Red satin chafed against worsted wool, and Will's red nails were shoving at Hannibal's chest to put some distance between them. 

"This isn't about me!" Hannibal shouted, grinding his cock against Will's.

"It's exactly about you!" Will shouted back, slapping his face and earning his freedom. 

Hannibal stepped back in shock because he'd never been struck by Will before. That he was angry enough to do so now meant that Hannibal had miscalculated something, somewhere, and he reached out again to try and touch Will. He caught hair, and he fisted his fingers around the thick strands, yanking him back against Hannibal's chest. 

"Stop!" Will was swinging angrily, fingers hooked into claws with red-tipped nails.

Hannibal tightened his grip. "Stop it yourself, Will. Stop." He wasn't about to let Will go until he was calm and quiet and lucid. 

Will calmed just enough to have his hair freed, and then he whirled at Hannibal and glared at him, teeth bared angrily. "Don't ever fucking touch me like that again!" 

Hannibal held his hands up to show he had no intention of touching him. "Fine. I won't." 

Will launched himself angrily at Hannibal anyway, and he caught Will easily, restraining his wrists and holding them over his head. "Let me go!"

"Will, please." Hannibal was relatively certain this had been building for awhile; Will had been all too nice and happy about this whole situation to be healthy. He let Will go, and instead, caught him against his chest, his arms pinning Will's down as he hauled him back. His chin rested on Will's head, and he didn't let go. "Please." 

"I fucking hate you sometimes, Hannibal." Will was near tears with it all. 

"You've got a right to," Hannibal sympathized, keeping his grip tight on his wife. He should've been more in tune with Will, he'd let a lot of the business bullshit get in the way, and this was what happened when priorities got fucked. "I've been a terrible husband." 

"Yes, you have. You've been horrible." Will hated that he was sniffling, again, for the second--no, third--time that night. "But Matty said not to be too hard on you, that it couldn't be easy even for a guy like you to run everything at one time and still remember how to be a husband. He said you just needed reminding, is all."

Hannibal's grip tightened to bruising. "Did he now?" Well, wasn't that just *super.* "And when did dear Matthew give you all this sterling advice?" 

"Tonight, while we were watching *House of Cards.* Kevin Spacey said something that just totally teed me off, and I started crying right in the middle of the goddamn episode." He sniffled hard again, trying to push down another recurrence of those tears. "I told him about Candylicious and Jennifer and Kylie and Jessica and Star and Sheridan, how we'd picked them out together from all the girls at the Zoom-Boom Room, and how you were supposed to be fucking girls instead of me, and how I hated every goddamn one of them, because I wanted you home with me." Deep, sobbing breath that hitched in his throat. "That's when he told me not to blame you, because you were just doing what the Family said to do, right, and that it wasn't easy for you to have to juggle everything." 

Hannibal's sole thought was that he was going to kill Matthew Brown. "That's… that's very kind of him," Hannibal choked out, though it wasn't all he wanted to say. 

"He let me cry all over his shirt and everything. He even got the tissues and helped me clean up my makeup. I looked like a drowned raccoon and he said not to worry, I was still pretty." Everything was pouring out now, good and bad. "And that's when he offered to rub my feet if it'd make me feel better, so I kicked off the heels and I let him have at it, and he's got really good fingers. Strong thumbs." So maybe that was a twist of the knife, because it was Hannibal's job.

"I'm glad he made you feel better." Hannibal was glad Will couldn't see his face right now. "Now if I let you go, are you going to try and kill me again?"

"Yes," was the honest response. 

"Then I'm not going to let you go." He pulled Will back over to the couch and sat down, toppling Will over on top of him. They lay chest to chest and face to face, and Hannibal linked his hand around his wrist to keep Will from leaving. "How long are you going to try and kill me, Will?"

"I wouldn't eat anything you didn't cook yourself," he said bitterly. "And it's a good thing I don't have keys to the basement." 

"Really, darling?" The back of Hannibal's thumb grazed slowly over Will's back. "You'd really go so far to kill me?"

"In a heartbeat." Will looked down at Hannibal's throat, and bared his teeth. "If they were sharp enough, I'd tear out your throat."

"Is that what you think about when I'm not here?" he asked curiously. "Better ways to kill me?"

"It's better than thinking about what you're doing." More bitterness, then. "It certainly hurts less." 

Hannibal chanced a kiss to Will's forehead. "You know, don't you, that I still love you? Nothing that I do outside of our marriage in any way changes the way I feel about you."

"Good for you, Hannibal. I'm thrilled you're so well-adjusted. But maybe, just maybe, it changes things for me. Ever stop to think about that? No. Because you're the Big Don, and you have to jump from bed to bed, and fuck, I get that, but what about me? You say nothing changes, but it doesn't feel like that." 

"Hush." Hannibal kissed his forehead again, and tightened his arms around Will to comforting instead of restraining. "What does or doesn't feel right is my fault, Will, not yours." He broke his grip at the small of his back to run fingers through Will's hair. "I didn't think what this was going to do to you, how this request from the Dons was going to affect you. I just did what they expected, and I expected you to fall along happily." 

"Yeah, you did, and I tried," Will pointed out, closing his eyes. The anger was exhausting; the rage burned so bright for so little time, and left him feeling weak and empty. "It just didn't work out that way." 

Hannibal's fingers were still carding through Will's hair. "Will, do you still love me?" 

That earned him a punch to the shoulder, and Will hoped it hurt. "Yes, you asshole. How could… how could you even fucking *ask* me that? Do you think--"

Hannibal's mouth sealing over Will's cut the sentence off mid-rant, and he couldn't help the relief he felt. He'd been honestly wondering that ever since he'd threatened to kill him, and he wasn't sure what he'd have done if the answer had been anything but yes. The relief spilled into the kiss, and he wrapped both arms around Will's shoulders and pulled him in close. "Shut up, Will," Hannibal said softly, tongue licking at his lips and mouth. 

Will kissed back angrily, forcing Hannibal's tongue to fight against his for every inch of give or take. His teeth bit at Hannibal's lips, growling softly. His leg slid between Hannibal's thighs, pressing against his cock and rubbing his own against Hannibal's leg. "Make me," he hissed between kisses, letting Hannibal's lower lip slide out between his teeth. "Make me shut up. Show me who I belong to." 

Hannibal didn't have anything to say about that, because Will was busy taking his breath away. He was all but humping Hannibal's thigh, leaning over to keep his mouth pressed to Hannibal's. He had to break the kisses, push Will's head back and look into deep gray eyes that were equal parts fury and pain. "After this, we have to talk."

"No talking." Will ground down on Hannibal's cock, panting harshly. "Enough talk. Action, Hannibal, that's what I want to see out of you right now." 

Hannibal growled, grabbing Will by the arms and pushing him off, enough to roll over on top of him and pin him to the floor. The skirt tore in his haste to get it off, and Will barely had clearance to lift his hips enough to get it out of the way. The red satin panties were edged with black lace, and Hannibal's fingers slipped inside and wrapped a firm hand around Will's cock again. It was hard and leaking, and he stroked it slowly. 

Will yanked at Hannibal's shirt, popping buttons off as the fabric got torn in his haste. Once the buttons were open and gone, he shoved it down off Hannibal's shoulders, pushing up onto his elbows to pull it all the way off. His nails drew blood scratching down Hannibal's chest, and he licked along the scratches before starting to yank at Hannibal's belt. 

The scratches made him grunt, and his fist tightened around Will's cock. He was trying his best to stay calm, but Will seemed determined to make him angry tonight. So he let the anger wash over him and through him, his fingers getting rougher on Will's cock as he yanked at Will's panties with his other hand. Didn't care that they tore too, just let the satin and lace scraps fall away as he shoved a knee between Will's thighs and drove them apart. 

Will struggled against Hannibal's knee between his legs, but couldn't dislodge it. His fingers yanked harder on Hannibal's belt, throwing it to the side once it was open. The button and zipper eased out perfectly, and Hannibal's erect cock spilled out. He yanked it once, pinching the head that peeked out of the foreskin. "Couldn't get off with your whore?" he teased his husband. 

"As a matter of fact, no. Seems I'm spoiled for anything else by my bitch of a wife," he snarled into Will's ear.

"Good," Will bit out, pulling harder on Hannibal's cock, even as he tried to wiggle away from Hannibal's touch on his own cock. 

"You would think so," Hannibal growled again, switching his weight to press against Will and keep him flat on the floor. "Vindictive cunt that you are." 

"Maybe if you weren't stepping out on me all time, I wouldn't be so vindictive." 

Hannibal grunted, rolling Will onto his stomach, and keeping a leg between his thighs so he couldn't close them or kick him off. "That's going to stop, since I can't trust my wife to keep his cock in his panties while I'm out of the house." He slid his fingers between Will's cheeks, teasing his hole with his thumb. 

Will pushed up onto his knees, but before he could swing his elbows, Hannibal's arms moved quickly, leaving him empty and pinning Will's arms to his chest. "No, I don't think so." He half-pushed, half-dragged Will against the wall, and used the hard surface to pin Will against. "Don't think I'm going to need your elbow in my lungs." 

The struggles continued until Hannibal's thumb pressed back into Will's entrance. It slipped in, just past the thumbnail, and Hannibal pressed harder, letting the entire digit slide in. His eyebrows shot up, and a real rage descended to push out the mere aggravation he'd felt before. "You've had someone up your ass tonight," he said, pushing Will away entirely as soon as he'd felt the slickness of lubricant already in his hole. 

Will grinned over his shoulder, and it was humorless. "Whatever makes you think that, honey?" 

He snatched Will's hair, dragging him back to stare at him, eye to eye and face to face. "Who. Was it precious little Matthew?"

Will's eyes were watering, but he didn't give the satisfaction of crying out. "He's got good fingers, but I don't know about his dick yet. You came home before we got that far," he shot back.

The shaking of Hannibal's arm caused Will's head to jitter until his teeth clacked against each other. "Who." Not even a question; a demand.

"Why don't you tell me, big guy?" Will fluttered his long lashes even as tears leaked out the corners of his eyes. "You're the expert on strange." 

"This isn't a game." Hannibal wasn't blinking, and his eyes were hard and jewel-like, nothing like the softness with which he usually regarded his wife. "Tell me, Will. Tell me who it was." 

Will licked his lips. "It wasn't anyone, if you're curious. I did it to myself, in the bathroom, while Matthew was popping our second bowl of popcorn. I was crying, I missed you, and I needed something. So I got myself off with my fingers up my own ass because you weren't here to take care of me." 

"I don't believe you, Will." Hannibal was nose to nose with his wife. "I think you're protecting Matthew Brown." 

"I don't care what you believe," he spit back. "But it's the truth either way." 

Hannibal's fist let go of Will's hair and let him slide down the wall. Will landed on his ass, his knees wide and his cock angry and hard between his spread legs. His shirt was half-open, torn where it'd snagged on the wall fixture on the way down, barely showing the red and black pinstripe corset under it.

Hannibal looked at the shreds of Will's clothes--red satin underwear, the silver stiletto heels that he'd gotten hit in the head with, the black mini-skirt, the red and black corset. 

Red was their color. 

The shirt itself had been one of Hannibal's, an icy white that was almost frosty blue, and it had hidden the red and black stripes until now. 

He got on his knees beside Will, running his fingers along the laces of the corset. "I believe you," he said, retracting his previous angry statement. 

"Because you're an idiot," Will murmured, kissing his cheek and then his mouth softly. "But you're my idiot, and Hannibal, I love you. No matter what else you might think about me, I wouldn't hurt you like that. No matter how angry you make me, I wouldn't." 

"I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have thought it of you." Hannibal's hand rose to stroke Will's face, trying to erase the tear tracks with his thumb. "I was angry." 

Will laughed softly, and it was tearful around the edges. "I feel you on that score, my friend." He turned his head into Hannibal's gentle touches. "I promise you, Hannibal. It was me."

Hannibal's fingers moved to cover Will's lips, and he pulled him up to his feet. "I know."

Will got to his feet easily, and smoothed one hand down his hip, shrugging the shirt off to reveal the corset. "Help me out of this, will you?"

"No." Hannibal lifted Will into his arms, corset and fishnets and all, kissing him softly. He was gentle and cautious, until Will's lips parted under his and welcomed him in. No bites, no anger, just a soft, quiet kiss that brought Will's hand to his husband's face, stroking his cheek.

"Skip the shower, and head for the hot tub," Will suggested. "I might even be convinced to give you a back rub." 

Hannibal smiled. "How about a chest rub, and then we're going to talk about those nails, because I think you skinned me alive." He caught Will's fingertips on his face, kissed them, and then brought it down to rest on his chest, where the blood-red tips were filed to very sharp points. "Been thinking of taking a chunk out of me, have you?"

Will's grin got a little naughty. "You've never seen a catfight until you've seen blood flow." 

Hannibal nearly dropped Will at that, even as he used his hip to open the door to the bathroom and headed for the Jacuzzi. "William Graham Lecter."

"I didn't say I *actually* got into one, but I was preparing for that. You *do* remember what I do for a living, yes?"

"Did," Hannibal stressed. "Past tense. Current tense, you are a happy wife to a happy husband and I'm extraordinarily proud of the fact you haven't killed anyone in over a year because your husband is more than willing to kill who needs killing." 

Will ran his fingernails lightly over Hannibal's neck, teasing his nape. "Mmm, sort of past tense. I've had a few offers that I've said no to." And a few more he'd said yes to, but Hannibal never needed to know that.

Hannibal sighed. "What am I going to do with you, Will?" To answer himself? He pushed Will into the hot tub. 

Will landed with a splash, surfacing and pinwheeling his arms to throw water *everywhere.* "Oh, your ass is dead meat, Lecter." The red and black corset was going to need a thorough drying out, assuming water was all that got on it tonight, and thank God the stilettos were gone; those things were four thousand dollars. 

Hannibal kicked off his shoes, then peeled off his pants and got into the tub with Will. The tub was big enough for about five or six people, so there was enough room for Hannibal to submerge entirely and then come up right in front of Will, wrapping Will's legs around his waist as he surfaced. "I think you said something about a back rub," he purred, dripping water from his hair and face. 

"That was before you threw me into the tub!" But Will snuggled his hips closer, adjusting their alignment until Hannibal's cock rubbed just between the split of his cheeks. "Besides, I can think of something better to do." 

"Ow, chlorine," is all Hannibal said, laughing at the smack he got in answer. "I'm just saying, darling." 

"Well, don't just say. Do something about it." Will leaned back, arms outstretched across the back of the tub. 

Hannibal's fingers tugged at the laces of Will's corset, sliding the wet material off and tossing it to the side with a resounding thump. He was much happier, then, Will as naked as he was, with everything on display. His cock floated weightlessly in the hot water, tossed about by the jet currents. The water buffeted him from all sides, soothing and stinging the scratches on his back from his and Will's angry rutting earlier. 

He slid his hands up Will's thighs, giving his wife's cock a firm stroke. It twitched against his palm, and Hannibal stroked again, rolling his lips lazily as his own cock rubbed against the curve of Will's ass. 

His breath caught at the gentle strokes, and his arms moved from the Jacuzzi's edge to lock around Hannibal's neck. "Did you mean what you said?" 

"Probably not, because I was furious. What are you asking about?" Hannibal didn't stop his lazy strokes, too busy watching Will arch in front of him with each one. 

"That it was going to stop." Will caught his lower lip between his teeth as he pushed into Hannibal's grip, back bowing to push him deeper into the tight fist stroking him. 

"Yes, that I did mean," Hannibal agreed. "It isn't working. I'm tired of posing for goddamn paparazzi pictures when I leave and come back to my own house, much less when I'm at the club or anywhere else." His free hand rose to swirl the water gently around Will's torso, so that the warm bubbles drifted and popped against his lover's chest. "It seems the only person that gets me hard is my wife. And seeing as how I could be fucking the real thing instead of just fantasizing to get me through the night…" He sighed. "Yes. It's done." 

"Good." Will tucked his head under Hannibal's chin. "I was only using Matthew to make you jealous." 

"I know; it worked," Hannibal pointed out unnecessarily, not complaining in the least about Will clinging to him. He'd much rather this than the screaming. "I'm still going to have to kill him."

Will hissed softly as Hannibal's thumb grazed the underside of his cock. "He's harmless," Will said breathily, toes curling against the small of Hannibal's back. 

"He's had his hands on you and I'm afraid I can't stand that." Hannibal stroked again, a little rougher, and Will's body surged towards his. "Even if it was just your feet, those are my feet. That's my job, every night before bed. Mine." A little tightening of his fist, a little more roughness to his strokes. "And I don't like anyone else doing my work for me." 

Will could only gasp as Hannibal stroked him roughly. He shivered, despite the heat of the pool, and he left a line of kisses along Hannibal's shoulder and jaw. "Yes, sir, Don Lecter," he panted out softly. 

Hannibal reached down to grab his erection, moving so that the head was positioned directly against Will's opening, straining to get in. "What did you just say?"

"I said, *Yes, Sir, Don Lecter,* " Will repeated, squeezing Hannibal's hips with his legs. 

Hannibal pushed forward, his cock breaching Will's opening. They both groaned, Hannibal from the tightness and Will from the burning stretch of Hannibal's slow thrust in. There was still plenty of lubricant left from when he'd pleasured himself, but it felt divine to have the hint of stretch and the deep burn of Hannibal's cock sliding in before stroking back out again. 

Hannibal's hands gripped Will's hips tightly, leaving his cock untouched for the moment. He brought Will down hard as he thrust up, the water buffeting both of them and slopping out over the side with each thrust. Will let go of Hannibal's neck with one arm, bracing it behind his head and on the back of the Jacuzzi so that he had leverage to push up and ride Hannibal's cock. 

His other arm stayed around Hannibal's neck, pulling him in to whisper in his ear. "You like that, don't you, Don?" Hannibal's grunt told him that yes, he really did. "Tell me what else you like, my Don," Will offered, his body moving against Hannibal's every strong thrust. 

"You." Hannibal's mouth left Will's neck as he pulled back to look at his husband. "Just you, whatever way you come." He moved his mouth to Will's, kissing him sharply and almost desperately. 

Will rocked against Hannibal, squeezing his legs around Hannibal's waist. His heels dug into Hannibal's ass with every rock, and one of his arms stayed around Hannibal's neck. The sloshing around them was creating bigger and bigger waves, spilling more water over the side of the tub. "I come with you," Will promised against Hannibal's mouth.

Hannibal kept Will's back pressed against the wall of the Jacuzzi, pressing into him hard and fast. Will's arm was still braced behind him, giving a push back against every thrust, and his legs were still tight around Hannibal's waist. They were almost crawling into the same skin together, with Hannibal's tongue back in Will's mouth as he kissed the words out. 

The arm around Hannibal's neck tightened, and Will whimpered softly. "Touch me, Hannibal, please touch me," he begged into Hannibal's ear. 

"Not yet," Hannibal grunted, sheathing himself to the hilt in every stroke. Tired of the water, he lifted Will around his waist and carried him out of the tub, and draped him over the counter instead. His cock was able to slide much deeper, and Will groaned. "There. Now." 

With his chest pressed against Will's back, Hannibal's hand slipped around to grip Will's cock tightly. He gave a shudder, bracing both hands against the marble countertop as Hannibal's thrusts got harder, pushing him harder against the counter. "Please," he groaned, and his hand came down to wrap around Hannibal's. 

Together they jacked Will's cock, Will's head tossed back onto Hannibal's shoulder for support as he rode the waves rocking over him. He could still feel the hot tub swirling around his legs, and it made him dizzy when he closed his eyes and felt the whole world twirling. Hannibal held him up one-handed, the other still stroking until Will came with a shout.

Hannibal was close behind, milked of orgasm by Will's tightening muscles and tense-locked body. Eventually both orgasms ended, and Will was weak in the knees. "Hannibal."

Hannibal carried Will over to the rain shower, scrubbing both their bodies quickly and then sweeping Will's wet form back into his arms. Will's arms went around Hannibal's neck, and he let himself be deposited in the middle of the bed, before Hannibal came back with thick white towels and started drying him off. 

When he got to Will's leg, Will dropped it over Hannibal's shoulder, heel digging in and pulling him up. Hannibal came easily, sliding a hand up Will's leg as he moved until his hands were on either side of Will's hips and he was looking down at his wife. "Yes?" he murmured softly, waiting to see what his next command was.

Will wiggled his toes, using them to brush Hannibal's cheek. "You've got a massage to tend to, Mister."

The End


	5. A/B/O AU: Mafia Wife Will Graham-Lecter and the Foot Rub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal's looking for a woman to satisfy the family, but his Omega is home alone, and feeling very unwanted. He's bent their relationship until it's broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This echoes the previous chapter (the foot rub), and picks up about halfway through it, when Hannibal has come home.

Will struggled against Hannibal's knee between his legs, but couldn't dislodge it. His fingers yanked harder on Hannibal's belt, throwing it to the side once it was open. The button and zipper eased out perfectly, and Hannibal's erect cock spilled out, knot easily visible and twitching slightly, ready to lock into his mate. Will yanked his husband's hard cock once, pinching the head that peeked out of the foreskin. "Couldn't get off with your whore?" he teased his husband. 

"As a matter of fact, no. Seems I'm spoiled for anything else by my bitch of a wife," he snarled into Will's ear.

"Good," Will bit out, pulling harder on Hannibal's cock, even as he tried to wiggle away from Hannibal's touch on his own cock. 

"You would think so," Hannibal growled again, switching his weight to press against Will and keep him flat on the floor. "Vindictive cunt that you are." 

"Maybe if you weren't stepping out on me all time, I wouldn't be so vindictive." 

Hannibal grunted, rolling Will onto his stomach, and keeping a leg between his thighs so he couldn't close them or kick him off. "That's going to stop, since I can't trust my wife to keep his cock in his panties while I'm out of the house." He slid his fingers between Will's cheeks, teasing his hole with his thumb. 

The struggles continued until Hannibal's thumb pressed back into Will's entrance. It slipped in, just past the thumbnail, and Hannibal pressed harder, letting the entire digit slide in. His eyebrows shot up, and a real rage descended to push out the mere aggravation he'd felt before. His nostrils flared furiously, and a deep, reverberating growl filled his chest. "This slick is fresh," he bit out, pushing more fingers in and stretching cruelly, feeling the easy give of the muscles. "Who's knot have you had up your ass tonight?"

Will grinned over his shoulder, and it was humorless. "Whatever makes you think that, honey?" 

He snatched Will's hair, dragging him back to stare at him, eye to eye and face to face. "Did you let that fucking *runt* Brown knot you?" When Will didn't answer, Hannibal gave him a violent shake by his hair. "Well?" 

Will's eyes were watering, but he didn't give the satisfaction of crying out. "Why don’t you go and sniff Matthew's crotch. See if the shower we took got it all cleaned off," he shot back.

The shaking of Hannibal's arm caused Will's head to jitter until his teeth clacked against each other. "Who." Not even a question; a demand.

"Why don't you tell me, big guy?" Will fluttered his long lashes even as tears leaked out the corners of his eyes. "You've been seeing so many fucking cunts lately you could be a gynecologist, *Mr. Lecter.* "

"This isn't a game. And that is not an answer." Hannibal wasn't blinking, and his eyes were hard and jewel-like, nothing like the softness with which he usually regarded his wife. "Tell me, Will. Tell me who it was." 

"Come close and give it a lick, honey. See how much it hurts to taste someone else on your mate." 

Hannibal's answering snarl was dangerous, and the tips of Will's teeth were showing beneath pulled-back lips. "Will." 

Will licked his lips. "It wasn't anyone, if you're curious. I did it to myself, in the bathroom, while Matthew was popping our second bowl of popcorn. I was crying, I missed you, and I needed something. So I got myself off with a knot dildo because you weren't here to take care of me." 

Hannibal ripped what was left of Will's clothes off his body, and tossed him naked onto the bed. Will was fighting against him, and his sharp nails left a jagged claw mark across Hannibal's cheek. The smell of blood infuriated him even more, and before he could finish his own clothes, Hannibal was coming. 

The come was thick, heavy and hot where it pattered and coated Will's skin. Hannibal's knot was pumping, stream after stream of it covering every exposed inch of Will's flesh. Face and mouth, hair, chest and arms, groin especially, legs. *Everywhere.* 

Will *gloried* in it. Luxuriated in it, the cloying scent of Hannibal's Alpha hormones were almost a drug. His fingers rubbed it into his skin, and he rolled onto his stomach, lifting his ass into the air. 

Another snarl, and a second orgasm hit Hannibal hard, marking his mate with scent more effectively than urine ever could, although that was an instinct he had to fight. 

As the hot come dripped over Will's back, down the crack of his ass, between his cheeks, he panted harshly. "At least you remember I exist. Tell me, *honey,* can you even knot me anymore?" 

At that insinuation, Hannibal could no longer stop the stream of urine that came out, splashing alongside the come to thoroughly soak his disobedient Omega with Alpha scent. Will groaned, almost suffocated on all sides by his husband's scent as his skin soaked it up like a sponge. 

Will shuddered, dizzy with Hannibal's scent. His body was loose, his hips tilted up in welcoming, and Hannibal mounted him. Quick and hard, his knot was already pressing against Will's opening before he was even all the way inside. The knot pushed the length of Hannibal's cock to the hilt, and Hannibal growled possessively as he started to fuck. Will was furious, still, his body reacting to biological imperatives but his mind was screaming furiously. 

"Your knots are almost the same size," Will panted out, fingers tangled in the sheets. "Wouldn't have thought a big-dicked guy like you would have a small knot." 

Hannibal's fingers dug cruelly into Will's hips, mauling the delicate skin. "Funny, I was just thinking that Kylie's cunt was tighter than yours." The anger buzzing in his mind and the need of the Alpha to control his mate crashed over him in a wave of bitterness. 

Will gave a sharp screech as his nails reached behind, groping for Hannibal's face and fully intending to rip into whatever flesh he could find. 

"Oh no you don't." Leaning forward, Hannibal used his weight to pin Will's body to the bed, his hands capturing Will's arms and holding them down. 

Will's teeth were sharp for an Omega, but not nearly as sharp as an Alpha's. But it didn't matter as he turned his head to the side and sunk his teeth deep into Hannibal's arm, drawing blood and almost pulling flesh out with his teeth. 

Hannibal grunted, a guttural sound of pain as he shook his arm, knocking Will's teeth loose. "Bite me again and I'll muzzle you like the bitch you're acting like," he threatened, his knot pushing deep into Will's ass and locking them together. 

The rage was boiling faster as he tasted blood on his tongue. "If I'm a bitch, you're the fucking mongrel bastard that breeds every bitch in heat." 

Hannibal didn't know where Will's rage was coming from, or even what anger was his own and what belonged to his mate. "At least I don't just take any knot that comes my way."

"No, you just knot in any cunt that you sniff at." Hard, biting words, sharpened like spears and meant to hurt and draw blood. 

"Then I suppose that makes *you* one of my cunts. Congratulations, that ought to make you happy." If anything ever did any longer.

"If I could arrange it, I'd have Matthew knotting me in front of you. At least he's never forgotten I exist." The tears weren't just for show.

Hannibal's arm came around Will's throat, choking the words off at the source. "Shut up," he snarled furiously, hurt and possessively angry at the barest *thought* of another Alpha knotting his mate. His teeth came down hard on Will's neck, harder even than Will had bitten him before. Blood flowed, mingling on the sheets, and Hannibal didn't remove his teeth until Will was silent and gasping to breathe. 

"There's only one bitch with my mark on their neck, and it's the one I'm knotted with," Hannibal hissed in Will's ear, letting his head fall back to the pillow.

The weeping was harder now, quietly and heartfelt. "I'm yours, then, but you're not mine? Is that it, Hannibal? My teeth on your heart doesn't mean anything to you, does it?" 

And that thought was enough to drain everything out of Will. The fight, the struggle, the anger, the hurt, the fury. The only thing that remained was nothingness. A sudden stillness overtook him, from the inside out, and the only movements he makes are the shakes from Hannibal's brutal thrusts and the throbbing of his knot. 

Hannibal opened his mouth to snarl back, but found himself speechless. The anger had vanished in an instant, his own fury a tiny dying ember compared to what he'd lost. On the heels of the loss, he realized that he was coming again, and it was vicious. His hands were clawing at Will's hips, dragging him back, and it was like moving dead weight. The wetness on the pillow wasn't just blood, and his body wasn't moving. 

A brief, terrible thought that he has hurt his mate made him want to howl, literally, and he gathered Will up against his chest. He can feel the heartbeat, he can hear the breathing, but that's all he can hear, and he feels… 

Nothing.

White noise, static almost, like a radio that's lost its signal. And in his heart, where his bond with Will lives, it's flat. A tingle, like a phantom limb, or a limb that's gone to sleep and isn't waking up. Pins and needles, but *wrong,* so wrong that there wasn't a word in Hannibal's extensive vocabulary to describe it. 

And then he realized.

This is what Will had been feeling all along. Numbness, disconnected from his mate, and hidden beneath waves of seething fury and hate. All to fill a void that Hannibal is directly responsible for having created in the first place. 

His knot deflated with the thought of the pain he's caused his mate.

As soon as the knot has gone down, Will was gone. Emotionally he had already left, Hannibal could feel that much. And once he was free, he was gone physically, too. 

Hannibal was alone.

\---

After the last, furiously angry knotting, Will had left. Without so much as a word to anyone, he'd just very quietly gotten up out of the mating bed, put his clothes on without so much as a shower, and very quietly left the goddamn house. 

And the worst part was the *silence.* Not just in the house, but in Hannibal's head. Where the comforting background buzz of his bond to Will usually kept his head filled with feelings ranging from happy to horny to downright obscene, there was nothing but a aching numbness. 

For the first two hours, he'd paced the bedroom, and then the rest of the house, like a dissatisfied lion. Hands behind his back, scowling deeply, growling at anyone who dared to speak to Don Lecter about anything. 

Then he started grilling the household staff.

Matthew: "No, I don't know where your wife went, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

Barney: "Sorry, Don Lecter. No idea."

Francis: "No clue, sir." 

Antonio: "I just saw him leave in the Sebring, sir, I don't know where he was going after that. But he was carrying one of those big satchel things he always carries."

The Sebring. The Sebring had GPS in it, and for that matter, so did Will's cell phone, if he had it. Why he hadn't thought of that before he didn't know. But when he checked the car's GPS location, he felt like there was a box of bricks on his chest, and he could barely breathe around it. 

*BWI Airport, MD 21240* 

Will's cell phone was turned off, but the last phone call from it pinged the cell tower closest to BWI. 

Hannibal felt his chest tighten even further. *those big satchel things* were not only Will's favorite purses (because you could easily hide a good-size gun in there as well as a knife ) but his favorite overnight bags. Which meant wherever he was going… 

He didn't intend to come back. 

His knuckles were white on the arm of his desk chair, and he barely pried one hand loose to dial through his Rolodex. He bypassed all the other contacts he had until he'd found the one he was looking for, and his shaking hand pulled the card loose. 

*Chilton, Frederick*

\---

In actuality, the Sebring was parked outside the Springhill Suites, a few blocks down from the actual airport. Will had left his cell phone in the glove compartment, but he'd carried his satchel with him, and though he got many sniffs and a wide berth given to him by other Alphas and Omegas in the hotel, he didn't really stop walking until he got to the penthouse studio, and knocked on the door. "Hey, Mapquest, it's Will. Can I come in?"

Instead of Ardelia opening the door, though, Will was stunned to see a mousy brown-haired young woman greeting him. "Hey, I'm Clarice--"

"Oh, God, of course you are." Will dropped his bag in the floor and hugged her. "Ardelia's told me all about you, I just didn't know you were coming with her. I'm sorry."

"Cracker, you keep your ass on that side of the house, man, because you *stink* of Alpha and I'm gonna throw your ass out the window in two seconds if you get close to me," Ardelia warned, and Clarice picked up Will's bag. "Come on, there's a second bedroom through here, we can wait it out." 

"I got clean-ish clothes, but I need to shower." 

"Got one of those too, come on." 

Clarice kept Will moving, and once he was in settled in the shower, scrubbing his hair and his skin red and raw, she left him to clean up and went straight to Ardelia. 

"God, you smell like him too, girl." But that she could take care of, and wrapped her arms around Clarice and held her close. "You have got to get him talking about what's going on with him and Lecter. Cause this is serious shit, this is Alpha-Omega issues, and those can kill a bonded pair if they're not fixed."

"Yeah, I know." Clarice laid her head on Ardelia's shoulder. "I'm gonna keep him in the bedroom, and you can come in when you can stand it, okay?" 

"I think I can handle it after he showers, long as I stay in the hallway." She sighed, heavily. "I think I'm gonna have to kill a fucker, Starling." 

\---

Frederick Chilton, known as Fast Freddie to those who hired him, was just settling in to enjoy an evening cocktail when the telephone rang. His private line, so he knew it wasn't a job. He debated not answering, but picked it up anyway. "Frederick."

"Hello, Mr. Chilton, this is Hannibal Lecter. I'm not certain if you remember me."

A roll of his eyes. "Oh yes, you're Will's Alpha. How could I forget?" Insinuated? *How could I forget such a pretentious motherfucker like you?*

Hannibal wasn't sure he liked *or* appreciated the other Alpha's tone, but he wasn't about to start a blood feud over it, even though that might've been nice. "Have you seen William?"

"Not recently, no. We did speak on the phone a week or so ago, but I haven't seen or spoken to him since. Have you lost him?" A deep growl came over the line as his answer. "Well, I did warn you at the mating ceremony that it wouldn't be a terrible idea to put a leash on the boy." 

Hannibal hung up in Frederick's ear. Sighing, he looked at the phone, then dug through his cell contacts until he found AM, and dialed. 

\---

"Ardelia, your phone!" Clarice had to shout it twice before it got heard over the swearing. 

Ardelia had calmed down enough after about a half an hour that she could approach the bedroom where Will and Clarice were cuddled together in a tangle of limbs. Christ help her, she thought it was adorable, watching the Omegas snuggle together, and even more so because Clarice wasn't hesitating to offer help and comfort to one of Ardelia's old friends. 

It was Clarice who had slowly drawn the story out of Will, from the beginning, from how he'd worked for Don Lecter for several years--twelve kills in all--to marrying the Don, to the Family despising him for it, and then finally, to the Family's demand that Hannibal "man up" and act like a true Don. Meaning they wanted him to find a *real woman* and get to fucking and producing *real* heirs to the family, not bastard pups from the help. 

"And the mother-fucker actually did it?" was Ardelia's interjection at that point, but Clarice had shushed her, calmed Will down *again* and got him to finish telling the story. 

How Will had sat with Hannibal and picked out the women he was going to go out with, and how he'd tried to hide how gutted he felt from his Alpha. There was a brief side divergence in the tale, because Will had then told about how one of the girls had gotten ill, and a substitute had been delivered to Hannibal. He'd gone ahead and fucked the bitch, so Will had taken off for a job, hauling Matthew with her instead of Hannibal.

Ardelia had laughed her ass off for ten straight minutes. "You really think he deleted that shit, Cracker?"

The look of disbelief on Will's face had been comical, and both women had cracked up at Will's horrified realization. 

But then they'd gotten back to the heart of the story, and Will finished by describing the last argument and the last knotting. 

That's when Ardelia got pissed. "Will. I am asking you this, in all seriousness. Do you want me to kill Don *fucking* Lecter for you, honey?"

Will's hands gripped the blankets hard, and Clarice tightened her arms around him. "Ardelia, no."

"Please?" Her chocolate eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm, because absolutely nobody fucked with her friends like this. Especially not some Alpha motherfucker who was stepping out on his Omega. 

"Ardelia, no. I still love him. I'm *in* love with him. It hurts that I love him so much, but it would hurt more if I lost him." 

Clarice petted his hair soothingly, and pulled his head down to rest on her chest. "You just rest here, and let us look after you."

Will fell into an uneasy sleep after that, and Clarice slipped out to try and calm down a raging Ardelia. 

"Motherfucker! I am going to castrate that toxic Alpha bastard, I swear to fucking God I am!"

"Ardelia, your phone!" Clarice had to shout it twice before it got heard over the swearing. 

"WHAT!" She shouted it into the speakerphone.

"Hello to you too, lovely Ardelia. I take it you've spoken to Will?"

"Oh, mother fucker, have I spoken to Will." A deep-throated growl.

"Interesting. Mind filling me in? Hannibal called looking for him, but I didn't bother telling him where Will had gone--I assumed he'd gone to find you." Freddie sighed softly. "It's that bad, Delia?"

Clarice touched Ardelia's shoulder. "I'm gonna go make some dinner. He's gonna need a lot of carbs after this." 

"You touch my frying pan and we're gonna have words." But Ardelia kissed Clarice gently, and then slapped her teasingly on the ass. "Get in the kitchen, woman, and make me a sandwich." Then she turned back to Frederick. "We're goin' out on the balcony so I don't wake him up cussing out that bastard Alpha." 

"Oh my." 

\---

Hannibal was stalking around the house. He was on his cell, calling anyone and everyone he could possibly think of.

Alana and Margot: "Haven't seen him since the last dinner party, sorry. But if we hear from him, we'll call you right away. I promise." 

He spoke to every single member of the house staff that wasn't currently on duty. Nobody had seen Will since their last day at work. 

Then he started dialing hotels. Nobody had a new booking for a Mrs. Lecter, a Mr. Lecter, or a Mr. or Mrs. Brown, sorry. No, we can't give out any more information, I'm sorry, have a good evening. 

Thirteen hotels he tried, including one that rented by the hour. 

Nothing. Everything came up empty. 

Matthew, Barney, and Francis were sitting around the coffee table in the lounge playing Texas Hold 'Em. Barney was dealing, Matthew was winning, and Francis was grumbling. "Fucker."

"Which one, there's about four of us here," Matthew pointed out, raking in the pot. 

"You, you fucker. We're playing old-school poker next time." Francis tossed his cards down, and dragged his hands over his face. 

"Yeah, I know, me too," Barney said, because he didn't have to hear the man talk to know what was going on in his head.

"Same," agreed Matthew. 

"Yeah, but you don't know where he is."

Barney paused mid-deal, and looked over Francis' shoulder to make sure Hannibal wasn't in earshot. "You do?"

"Yeah." He craned his own head, checking to see. "Airport hotel. Springhill something. That lady friend of his, Mapp? She's got a suite there, and Will's there, I guaran-fucking-tee it."

"You drive him there?" Barney figured it out, and went back to dealing the cards. 

"Yeah. Earlier in the week." 

Matthew sighed. "No wonder he's stocking up on bullets. I've bought so many boxes of .45s in the last two months I'm probably on every goddamn watchlist there is." 

Barney's sigh was next. "Yeah, you should see what he's been doing to the kitchen."

They shut up when Hannibal came pacing back into the room, and they were all just three dudes playing cards. "I'll call your ten, and raise you twenty more," Barney said after studying his cards. 

"Fold," Francis said, before he could even throw in.

"I'll see your twenty and raise you another fifty." Matthew studiously refused to look at Hannibal standing there, nor did they invite him to join the game.

Finally, Hannibal walked away, his phone back up to his ear. 

They waited until he was gone, and Barney leaned across the table to talk to Francis. "How the hell you find that out, anyway?"

Francis shrugged in answer, but he was thinking about the morning he'd driven Will over there.

\--

"I'll only call you Frankie when it's just the two of us," he'd said suddenly. "You're a great guy, and anyone who gets to hear that name, or gets to call you Frankie, they've got to fucking *earn* it. Cause you're worth it." 

\--

Truth be told, Frankie was the one who knew the information, not Francis. But nobody else knew Frankie, just Francis. So he kept his trap shut and just shrugged Barney's question off with, "The Don's wife likes me."

Hannibal couldn't believe that these guys were *fucking playing poker* when Will was missing. At the least, they should've been worried about Will's safety. But no, they were more concerned with who was winning the goddamn game.

He was really reaching now. Will's manicurist, stylist, personal trainer. All negatives. Nobody from the Zoom-Boom Room had seen Will, and yes, everyone was alive and uninjured. Why, Don Lecter? No reason, Hannibal answered, and hung up. 

He'd paged through every single possible contact in his Rolodex, and in his cell phone, including periodic rings of Will's cell phone, which went straight to voicemail, and Hannibal left increasingly frantic messages. 

His only choice was to call Frederick again, and he didn't want to do it. But he did.

And Frederick had been waiting for the call. 

"Hello, Hannibal. You are a dick. Goodbye." 

Hannibal stared at the phone; he hadn't even gotten in two words before Frederick hung up on him. 

… Somebody somewhere knew something, and that was making him angry.

\---

"Yo, Cracker! Up and at 'em. Reese made you dinner." Ardelia banged her fist on the bedroom door, and felt a little guilty when Will jerked awake, in a panic because of unfamiliar surroundings. She could scent the panic, and came into the bedroom to touch him. "Hey. It's me. You're safe, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." The reassurance of a familiar friend--and a familiar scent--helped the panic die down as he rubbed his hands over his face. "Thanks, Delia."

"No problem. Come on, Clarice cooked for you, and she's a pretty decent cook. Not as good as me, but she's learning." She kissed Will top of the head. "You better appreciate it."

"I do, trust me." Will rolled out of bed like a sleepy puppy, and he was absolutely adorable and empty inside. He let Ardelia lead him into the studio's kitchen and dining area, and his eyes got big. 

An entire chicken had been cut up and fried--home-fried, like dipped in egg and milk and flour and dropped in hot grease fried. A whole five-pound bag of potatoes had given their lives to create the monster bowl of homemade mashed potatoes sitting beside the chicken, and Clarice was just bringing in a pan of hot cornbread and a tub of creamy butter. A pot of mustard greens was sitting on a trivet, and Will burst into tears.

He wasn't used to homemade meals like this; Hannibal's homemade cooking was more fancy, with ten different kinds of sauces and exotic vegetables and fruits, with many courses and small portions and delicious textures. 

It just made him miss Hannibal more, and Clarice was not in the least offended. She just put the cornbread down, and wrapped her arms around Will. "Hey. You need lots of protein, lots of carbs, and I know you're just a backwoods boy like me. So let's eat, okay?" 

Clarice led Will to the table, and once she started helping fill a plate for him, he perked up and started serving himself. He took three pieces of chicken, a third of the potatoes, three hunks of cornbread, and four ladles of greens. The plate was filled to capacity and spilling over; the chicken and the cornbread sort of hung half off the side, to make room for the rest of the food.

The doorknocker banged loudly. "Ardelia! I know you're there, please open!"

"Frederick Chilton, get your stinky Alpha ass out of my hallway!" Ardelia stomped over to let Frederick in, but didn't let him past the threshold. "I can take care of Will just fine, thank you, Stinky." 

Frederick sniffed himself; he hadn't realized he'd been scenting. "I apologize, I didn't realize." He sniffed again. "You're a bit aromatic yourself, Miss Mapp."

They were *both* Alphas reacting to the distress of an Omega they cared about, and that could be dangerous, if they were competing. Ardelia relaxed. "Come on in, pull up a plate. Clarice cooked."

\---

Hannibal was just about out of his mind. It had been nearly a full twenty-four hours since Will had left. No cell phone messages had been returned, nobody had seen him, and the bond he felt with his mate was growing dimmer and dimmer as the time passed. 

He'd snapped at Barney and gotten a raised eyebrow for it. He'd snarled at Matthew, and to his surprise, Matthew had snarled back and told him to get the fuck into the bathroom, take a shower, and quit stinking up the whole goddamn house. 

"How dare you talk to me like that?" was quickly followed by, "And why do you even care?"

Matthew's answer was simple, and it cut Hannibal to the quick. "Because Will would want me to." 

So Hannibal had showered, changed into clean clothes, and had actually been forced to eat something, though his stomach was threatening to reject the simple sandwich that Matthew had made and thrown in front of him. 

The sound of the car door echoed through the nearly silent house, and Hannibal shot out of his chair. It fell to the floor and he didn't even care as it clattered on the ceramic tile. He met Will at the garage door, barely giving him room to get in the house. 

A heavy hand fell on Hannibal's shoulder and yanked him back a step, and Will smiled. "Thanks, Francis," he said softly.

A grunt and a nod was Francis' only answer, but he let Hannibal go immediately. 

Hannibal reached out for Will's shoulder, and was gutted when Will flinched away from him. 

It was a full-body jerk, and Will went stumbling backwards several steps. "Please don't touch me," he whispered again, and Francis put himself between Hannibal and Will as Will fled for the stairs.

Hannibal growled deep in his throat, and was shocked when Francis rolled out an answering growl. "No."

"No?" Hannibal really couldn't remember the last time he'd been given a solid, definite *No.* "What do you mean, no?"

"No," Francis said again. When Will had vanished up the stairs, he stepped out of Hannibal's space, and sat back down at the table. 

"You're fired," Hannibal said calmly. He wasn't going to be told what to do by *anyone* who worked for him.

"No," Francis said again. "I work for the Mrs., Mr. Lecter. Not you. Check the contract." He picked up the newspaper and started leafing through it. 

Hannibal waited a full half hour at the foot of the stairs. He heard their shower running, because he recognized the sound of water on marble. He heard the squeak of the closet door, which he knew better than anything else, and then silence. He made his way up the stairs, and the bedroom door was closed. 

That was unnatural; the only time the door was closed was when they were inside it together. Otherwise, it stayed open for the cleaning crew and everything else. Hannibal tried to turn the knob, but it was locked. "Will?"

"Please leave me alone, Hannibal." The door didn't unlock, the knob didn't turn. "Please leave." 

Standing in front of the door, he could hear Will moving around in the bedroom, the closet door opening and closing, drawers opening and closing. Packing. That was the sound of packing, and it had his heartbeat pounding like a jackhammer.

"Will, please." He put his hand against the door, and it was cold wood instead of warm flesh. "Please." 

"If you don't leave, I'm calling Francis." The metallic thump of what he could only imagine as latches closing, and then a thump of a suitcase landing by the door. "Leave. Please." 

Hannibal could scent the misery coming out of his mate; it had to be leaking out of every pore to scent the air so thickly. But he did what Will asked; he stepped back down the hall, and stayed out of the way. 

The bedroom door unlocked, and Will carried a suitcase and a shoulder bag to the other end of the hall, where the largest guest suite was. It had its own en suite bathroom, and even a little mini-fridge for guests to use. Will walked in and laid his luggage on the bed, then closed the door and locked it. 

Even as he tried to focus on it, Hannibal could feel the strain of their bond falling further and further apart, and he didn't know how in the hell he was going to fix it. Or survive it. 

From the safety of the bedroom, Will called Ardelia. "Hey, Delia, it's me. You said to call when I got home safe, and I'm home safe." A pause. "Yes, I'm in the guest room. And no, you don't have to send Clarice over. I've got Francis, I got Barney, I got Matthew. They're my friends, we'll be okay. Yes, I'll remember to have someone bring in the food. Love you too, Mapquest. Bye."

Pressing the phone to his lips, Will called downstairs, to Francis' cell phone. "Frankie, hey. I gotta ask you a favor. Ardelia sent me home a ton of food, it's in a cooler in the back of the Sebring."

"I'll get it." Gruff, to the point. "You want anything else?"

"Yes, please. Tub of ice cream, Barney knows what kind." He sighed softly. "Thank you, for what you did when I got home."

Another grunt. "You're welcome, Mrs. Lecter."

Closing his eyes, Will laid his head back on unfamiliar pillows and waited.

\---

Hannibal growled when he saw Francis hauling in the cooler full of food. He could smell the chicken, the potatoes, the greens, even the starch of the bread and the sickly sweet of a lemon meringue that still reeked of Chilton.

"Hey, let me help." Barney was already on his feet, ready to help rearrange the contents of the fridge. "I got this. You go see what else the lady needs." 

"Ice cream."

"Got that covered." Barney opened up the freezer and pulled out a carton of Ben and Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk and a spoon. "There's four more in the freezer, and I'll send the Don out for more."

That made Francis smile; at this point, Don Lecter would've probably agreed to climb the Empire State Building like King Kong if Will wanted him to. "Thanks." He climbed the stairs, and knocked on the furthest room away from the master bedroom. "It's me."

"It's unlocked, Frankie." Will was curled up on the bed, a pillow clutched to his chest while the TV was on. Netflix was playing something bland and animated. 

Francis pushed the door open and locked it behind him. "Got your ice cream."

"Thanks." Will patted the bed beside him, and took the ice cream from his hand. 

Will curled around Francis as soon as he sat down on the bed, and Francis stroked Will's hair and shoulders. Francis rested his chin on Will's temple, and looked at the TV. "Looney tunes." 

"Bugs always cheers me up." Will's eyes were closed, though, and Francis just rocked Will against his side. 

"Don Lecter tried to fire me."

Will laughed at that, but it was half a sob, too. "Hope you told him you work for me, not him."

"Did. Didn't make him happy." Francis smiled to himself at that. "Don't care, either."

Having a warm Alpha nearby made Will feel so much better. Especially Francis, who was quiet, but smart as a whip, and who never said more than he needed to. "You still thinking about that tattoo?"

"No. Decided on it. Got my first appointment next week. Wanna come?" Francis offered, figuring that it might do Will some good to get out of the house. 

"I'd love to! I'll drive you, cause I think you're gonna be in a little bit of pain. Will they do it all at once?"

Francis shook his head. "Nope. Too much to do at once. Gonna go back all week, and they'll do it in pieces until it's all done." 

Will smiled. "I promise not to call you Frankie the Dragon." 

"Can if you like." Francis shrugged. 

"You're a good man, Frankie Dolarhyde." 

Francis heard Will yawning, and he started to purr in the back of his throat. A rusty rumble that sounded like a giant cat, and it soothed Will off into an uneasy sleep, tucked under Francis' protective arm.

\---

It felt, to Hannibal, as if the entire house were ranged against him, and aligned with his wife. He barely saw Will over the next few days, and if he did, he was always escorted by either Francis, Matthew, and occasionally Barney. It was like they were *conspiring* to keep Will away from him.

They were. At Will's request, even, they had agreed between the three of them that Hannibal needed to stay the fuck away from Will until Will was ready to see him. Francis covered most of the time, except when he was needed to work for the Don, and that's when Matthew and Barney stepped in. 

Will watched Barney cut and measure fifty kilos of heroin and cocaine one afternoon, taping up innocuous brown packages for delivery by courier.

He watched Matthew stand for hours like a Buckingham Palace Guard outside the bedroom door, doing his job and "protecting the Mrs." 

He drove Francis to Ink Link Tats, where he got to sit beside the chair and watch the tattoo artist sketch in and then ink over the first horn and wing of the dragon's body on Francis' bare back. "You want one of your own, miss?" Francis asked. "On me." 

Will studied the available designs. "Yeah. I think I do. Something… fierce. But something I can hide under clothes and things, because I don't need identifying marks."

"You decide," Francis said, but inwardly, he was glad that Will was finally thinking about outside work, his job, and anything that wasn't Don Hannibal fucking Lecter.

\---

Six days and eighteen hours. 

That was about as long as Hannibal could stand it, because he was ready to chew his own arm off. He went out and about doing his business, making his deals, collecting what he was owed, but the constant nagging emptiness was all he could stand.

The Family was nagging him again to go out and find a real woman, a decent Omega who could breed the Family some legitimate pups, and he'd nearly torn the throat out of one of the capos who'd dared to offer to take Will off his hands. 

That was pretty much the last straw, and Hannibal slammed the doors open. "Out. All of you. Out of the house, and don't bother coming back until tomorrow morning," he snarled. "NOW!"

That was a window-shattering roar that the other Alphas couldn't ignore.

Will couldn't ignore it either, because it rattled in his *head.* It was almost like a splitting headache for an instant, because it was such a massive influx through the bond that was nearly dead. He had to cradle his head between his hands for a long moment, and when he looked up, Hannibal was looming in the bedroom doorway, because Will had forgotten to lock it when Francis left. 

"Your guard dogs are gone, and the house is empty. It's just you and me, William, and please, tell me you'll talk to me now." Hannibal was treading the line between fed up and pleading. Because he honestly didn't know which would make it through. 

"They're not guard dogs, Hannibal, they're my friends, and they're worried about me." 

"They're cockblocks, and they're out of the house for now." Hannibal came in and sat on the furthest corner of the bed, where Will had drawn up and tucked his knees against his chest to make himself tiny. "Will. Enough. Please."

He dragged the pillow up to squeeze between his legs and arms, and peered at Hannibal over the top of it. "It's more than enough, Hannibal. It's done."

Panic clawed at his throat, and his grip was strong enough to almost splinter the faux finish of the bedstand. "Done."

"Yes. Done. I don't feel you inside of me anymore, Hannibal. I haven't since that night." No need to explain that. "You gave me a headache when you screamed just now, and that's never happened before. It's like you're splitting my head open trying to force your way in where you don't belong." Will rocked himself against the headboard. 

"I don't." Hannibal couldn't breathe, couldn't suck in a deep breath. "I don't want you to be gone, Will."

"I think maybe we've gone past that point." He was frank now. "I think it started when the Family told you to find a woman to have your pups, and you did it. I helped you do it, but I think that's when it started. You either couldn't feel, or didn't care, what it was doing to me. I felt what it was doing to you, and I tried to hide it. Maybe I hid it too well, I don't know. But I think that's when it started. And the anger just started filling up all the empty places inside of me, until that's all it was. In all the places you used to be, there wasn't anything, and then there was anger and hate and fury." He swallowed hard. "And then we hurt each other, and then everything fell apart." 

Hannibal couldn't breathe, and he had to loosen the tie around his neck. It didn't help. "I felt. I didn't know what to do, or what to say, but I felt. And you seemed you were all right with it, but I didn't know what to say, so I didn't." Another hard swallow, and his head was feeling dizzy. He felt like an Alpha losing his mate, and he was trying hard not to give into that swirling crazy. "I kept feeling your anger, and it got wrapped in mine, and it grew into such a huge thing I couldn't stop. You hurt me, I hurt you, and it escalated." His teeth were biting hard on his lower lip, almost to the point of drawing blood.

"Yes, it did." The ugly cut on Hannibal's cheek had mostly healed, but because Will had inflicted it, he knew where to look to see the damage. "I shouldn't have let you mount me or knot me. That was my mistake, and I'm sorry for it."

"I'm not." Hannibal was equally as honest. "I'm never sorry for the chance to be inside of you." 

"But that isn't what I wanted the last time to be, Hannibal. I didn't want it to be furious and obscene and us trying to hurt each other more than the other." Will hid his face in his pillow for a moment. "It's not what it should've been."

"It doesn't have to be." 

"Hannibal." Will gave him a look. "I'm not getting back into bed with you." 

Hannibal was having a hard time keeping his distance. "Don't let go of what we had," Hannibal begged softly. "Please." 

"It's not a matter of letting go or holding on, not anymore. It's a matter of feeling it, and I don't. I can't. Not anymore." Will was all but crushing the pillow as he held onto it, and he wished like hell Hannibal hadn't exiled Francis out of the house. He wanted to be held, to be comforted.

Hannibal slowly inched closer, pausing before each scoot, and when he was within arm's reach of his mate, he touched Will lightly on the ankle. He flinched, but just enough to make Hannibal's hand shift up.

Looking down, he saw colored skin peeking out of Will's sock, and he peeled it down enough to see three rubies clustered together in a band, and out of habit, he checked it against his wedding ring as soon as he recognized the design; one large ruby with a smaller one on either side. The skin around the tattoo was still puffy and red, and Hannibal gently moved his hand out of the way so that he wasn't touching painful skin. "When did that happen?"

"A few days ago, when Francis got his tattoo finished. He bought it for me." 

That made Hannibal growl a little, but he swallowed the loudest part of it because he didn't want to frighten Will away. "Why is Francis buying your tattoos?"

"Tattoo, singular, and because he thought it might cheer me up. Can't imagine why he thought I was down in the dumps about anything." A hint of the old sarcasm, and Will tried hard not to let it seep through. It never led to anything good.

Hannibal swallowed down the bitchy comment about what Francis could do with his goddamn tattoos and well-wishes. "I'm sorry I asked; it's really not my business."

"No, it's really not." Will pulled his leg away from Hannibal's hands, and threw the blanket over them.

So many stone walls being thrown up at him, and Hannibal wanted to cry. Scream. Kill. Something. He had no way of taking down those walls, and he couldn't put up any of his own. He felt like a raw wound that hadn't scarred over yet. "I don't know where we go from here. Except to tell you that I've told the Family to go to hell. They wanted… they wanted me to find another woman, and the Pigmaster offered to take you off my hands. I almost killed him for that; they had to sew his throat back together." Not bragging, just being honest. "I only want you, Will. Can you honestly tell me that you don't want me? And I don't mean just… I don't mean in bed. I mean, in your life. Are you really that done with me that you can't even stand me touching you any more?"

"I don't know." Honesty deserved honesty. "If you'd told me this a week ago, two weeks ago, maybe not. Now?" A little ripple of his shoulders that passed for a shrug. "I didn't give you the chance because I couldn't stand the sound of your voice. I still can't. I hate hearing you talk, because all I hear is the horrible things you said to me, the horrible things I *made* you say." Another rippling shrug, because that was all he had. 

"You didn't make me say anything." Probably not helping his case, but Hannibal couldn't stand the thought of Will taking responsibility for something he had done. "I could've stopped. I could've shut up and let whatever you said roll over me, but I'm the one who got caught up in it. It was tit for tat, darling, not just tit." Will winced at the term of endearment, but Hannibal plowed ahead. "You were in my head, and now you're not. If you want to talk about what you hate and don't hate, that's it. I hate the emptiness. I hate *not* hearing you. I hate not knowing that you're happy, or you're miserable, or yes, even that you're furious. Your bond with me was something that I relied on, and maybe I did take it for granted. Assume that it would always be there and be healthy because it's you and it's me, and I didn't ever imagine that we wouldn't be a unit. But here we are, and I don't know what to do because I am honestly not prepared for this." 

"I'm not either. I'm not ready to not have an Alpha. I've always had one. Most of my friends are Alphas, and I'm sure that goes over well with the Family, too." He sighed, and wiped away the silent tears welling up. "I don't think I'm ever over you, but I have to move past you." 

"Why?" Hannibal put his hands over his knee and linked his fingers together, trying to stave off the need to touch Will everywhere, claim him again before he could leave. "Will. For a moment, stop thinking of leaving, and please think of staying."

"I can't, because if I do, I cry and I can't stop. Because I can't see it anymore. Not you and me, not us, not like this." The silent tears started to creep down his cheeks again, and he wiped them away angrily. "I always see us coming back to the same place, Hannibal. I can't keep my mouth shut and be the dutiful Mafia wife the Family wants you to have, and I won't ever be able to give you the pedigreed pups they expect--"

"Fuck that." Hannibal didn't even raise his voice when he said it. 

It was the profanity that jolted will out of his thoughts more than the tone of voice or anything else, and it took him a moment to actually register what Hannibal had just said. "I'm sorry?"

"I said, fuck that. I didn't ask you to marry me because of someone's expectations, Will. I asked you to marry because I love you." His fingers tightened around each other, because baring his heart like this needed to be soothed by touching Will, especially when he could not rely on their bond to help bolster him up. It made him realize just how fragile he'd become without Will behind him. "We both know I was wrong. We both know you were wrong. I should've said no, and I didn't. You should have been honest with me, and you weren't. Two wrongs, over and done with. They don't exist anymore; they never should have existed in the first place." A deep breath. "We both know I was right. We both know you were right. I was right when I tried to calm you down, and you were right to leave when it got… twisted. Two wrongs, two rights. Everything's canceled out now. Can it… can it just be you and me, Will, please? Just you and me? One more time?" 

Will was crying silently again, and he was having to scrub his face every few moments to keep up with the tears. He couldn't speak, just shook his head numbly. 

"Fuck it," Hannibal repeated a third time, moving up the bed. He didn't care that Will cringed and cowered against his pillow; he brought his hands up and cupped Will's wet face as gently as he knew how. His thumbs brushed the tears from his eyes as soon as they appeared, and he pressed a soft, gentle kiss to Will's forehead. "My mate is in agony and I have to help," he whispered softly, and drew Will into his arms. 

Will fought for a few moments, balling up his fists and punching at Hannibal's arms and shoulders. But it didn't last long, because oh, God, this was what he had been needing, what he had been craving for so long now. The comfort of *his* Alpha, of *his* mate, and he flattened his fists in one second to knot them in Hannibal's shirt in the next. The scent of him was so familiar, the warmth so welcome, the touch so comforting that Will felt his entire body relaxing as Hannibal drew him in closer, so that that he was sitting in Hannibal's lap, completely cocooned and protected.

Finally, Hannibal could breathe. Will was no longer pushing him away; Will was accepting him. Maybe just once, maybe just to comfort himself, but Hannibal could feel pieces of himself spinning and locking into place once again. His Omega was here, his mate was here, and he was, finally, being allowed to do what an Alpha should do--care for him. 

He wanted to do everything. He wanted to carry Will back to *their* bedroom, not this place, wrap him in every blanket and sheet he could find. He wanted to go downstairs and cook a twelve-course meal, and spoon-feed the best bits of it to his mate. He wanted to take Will into the tub, fill it with hot water and bubbles, and bathe him. Worship every inch of him, tell him without words what having Will meant. He wanted to wrap him in thick, warm towels and carry him back to the bed, and then he wanted to claim.

Will was drugging himself with Hannibal's scent. The Alpha hormones poured off him by the bucketful, and he soaked every bit of it in. Hannibal's body temperature was warm, and he soaked that in, too. Hannibal's hands were on his back, keeping him pressed in close, safe and protected. 

He could feel Hannibal in his head. He could feel the neediness dragging at the edges of his mind, he could feel the full-chested satisfaction bubbling up out of Hannibal like a geyser, he could feel his own trepidation echoed inside Hannibal. 

Hannibal felt it, too. He could feel the gentle tendrils expanding in his mind, the welcome sensation of *Will* trickling in to replace the cold and static-filled numbness that had settled over him. His fingers flexed, ready to destroy the first threat that showed itself; his jaw cracked and resettled as he ran his tongue over his teeth as a reassurance that he was capable of fighting for Will's love or Will's safety, whatever was required. That he was capable of biting a bloody mark onto Will's throat that would never be overlooked again. 

More and more of Hannibal's feelings rushed into Will's head, and he rode them like waves in the ocean. He could feel his body reacting, relaxing and opening up to receive his mate, to offer calm and reason to soothe the fiery whorls of action that spun in between the threads of their bond. 

Hannibal kissed Will's forehead again, relishing the brief intensifying of Will's feelings glowing in his mind at the touch of skin to skin. He wanted to rip every bit of clothing off Will's body first, then his own, and just luxuriate skin to skin until every single neuron was saturated with Will's feelings and thought patterns. "Will?"

"Sssh." Will's voice was calm and quiet, because the tears had stopped soaking Hannibal's shirt. But he wasn't ready to talk. Not yet. 

"Okay." Hannibal had absolutely no argument with holding Will until he was ready to speak.

\---

Francis was first to arrive at the house the next morning, and as soon as he opened the door, he was assaulted with Alpha scent, the syrupy scent of omega slick, and enough pheromones to knock a Beta out for a week. "Hey!" he called out, coming in through the garage. 

"Frankie!" Will popped out from behind the fridge, wearing nothing more than one of Hannibal's shirts. 

"Jesus." Francis backpedaled until he was back in the garage, and dug through the side closet there until he found one of his own long rain slickers, and tossed it into the kitchen. "Look, I don't need to see that." Oh, but he did enjoy the sound of Will laughing as he scooped up the coat, and it came flying back at him. 

"It's safe!"

Francis highly doubted that, but when he came around again, Will was wearing an apron that reached his knees, which really helped. As long as he didn't turn around. "Morning."

"Morning!" Will was laying out a breakfast tray--obviously a refill for seconds, or possibly thirds, given that half the loaf of bread was gone, there were only two strips of bacon left in the pan while the empty wrapper was in the trash, and the egg carton was empty. On the tray was also a pile of fruit--two bananas, three oranges, an apple, and a cluster of grapes. 

"Carry that?"

Will beamed. "I don't think you wanna see Hannibal naked in bed, Frankie," he said, the grin turning naughty at the end as Francis recoiled. 

"No. Really don't." But he did take the tray out of Will's hands and put it on the island. "Hey."

"Yes," Will answered, because he knew Francis well enough to know what was really being asked. "We're… maybe not all the way there yet, but we will be."

"Need me to kill him?" 

"God, what is it with you people, thinking I can't effectively murder my own husband." But Will said it teasingly. "It's like none of you remember what I actually *do* for a living."

"Turn." 

Will turned around, pulling the apron over his backside as he did--and given that it was Hannibal's apron, there was more than enough to wrap around him. But he let Francis take a look, to see that he wasn't injured, wasn't hurt, and *was* freshly marked. 

The mark on Will's throat was the first thing he'd seen, and read it as exactly what it was meant to be; *NO TRESPASSING.* 

But everything else seemed normal, for Will, and he gave Mrs. Lecter a hug. "Glad you're still here, ma'am."

Will just grinned. "After all of this, don't you think you can call me Will?"

"Nope." 

"Hey, do me one more favor? Call Ardelia and tell her everything is fine, and I'll call her myself later today but, uh. Busy morning." Will lifted the tray, and backed out of the kitchen so he didn't accidently flash his naked ass to Francis again. 

"Sure," Francis called out after him, and hung his coat back in the closet. 

Will carried the tray back into the master bedroom, where Hannibal was reclining against the pillows, hands resting on his stomach. Handsome bastard, and Will's stomach couldn't help an enthusiastic little flip when Hannibal's mouth spread into a smile just for him. "We're, uh, no longer alone in the house," he warned. "We have to behave."

"So no more cooking breakfast naked, is what you're telling me." He took the tray out of Will's hands, sat it across his legs, then patted the bed for Will to get in beside him. Once his mate was snuggled in, Hannibal chose one of the bacon strips and brought it to Will's mouth. 

Hannibal had been doing that all night and all morning, feeding him like… well, a sultan. Princess. Something. He crunched the crispy bacon, which was especially delicious, and then held up his hands. "Hey, I'm stuffed."

"Not yet." But Hannibal didn't argue, making quick work of the bacon, eggs, and toast. Then he laid back with one of the oranges, and peeled the skin off with his fingers. The sharp citrus smell filled the room, and he tore it into sections, placing one against Will's lips. 

Sighing, Will ate it, and allowed himself to be fed half the orange, while Hannibal ate the other half. "Is this going to be a thing?"

"Is what?" Hannibal's pocketknife was out, and he was trailing the skin of the apple like a ribbon as he peeled the snowy globe.

"Feeding me," Will elaborated, and then snatched the peel when it was fully off the apple.

"What are you doing?" Hannibal asked, watching Will get up on his knees and throw the apple peel over his shoulder. 

"Well, there's an old wives' tale that says if you throw a whole apple peel over your shoulder, it'll land in the initial of your one true love," Will explained, and then peered over the side of the bed. "See?" he added, straightening up and inviting Hannibal to look. 

Leaning over, Hannibal found the apple peel had fallen in the shape of a lowercase h. "Well, I suppose that answers that question."

End


	6. mafia wife will graham gets caught by her husband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what if Will's taken a few contracts on the side? As long as Hannibal never knows about it...

"Honey, I'm home!" Will swings in the door, arms full of bags, with another man trailing behind carrying a whole lot more bags, and dragging the suitcase rack behind him. Will did not pack lightly.

"Nice to see you, darling." Hannibal was very calmly sitting on the couch, watching his wonderful, lovely wife come back from his shopping trip. "Looks like you bought out the whole store." 

"Your credit card is going to fall apart, especially after I hit Christian Louboutin's boutique." Will dropped everything and dug through the bags until he found the black suede ankle boots he'd picked up. "These are what I mean." 

"I can't wait to see what you look like in them. However, I didn't know you knew how to tie a Windsor, you always made me tie my own," he commented calmly.

"A who now?" Will dropped into Hannibal's lap, draping his arms around Hannibal's neck. 

"A Windsor knot," he repeated, and he pulled the newspaper out from under his hip. It had been folded back to the society page, and on the page, was a huge photograph of a Hollywood starlet, whose name escaped him, on the arm of a handsome man in a snazzy black suit and a red tie with a perfect Windsor knot.

Will winced when the newspaper came out; he'd thought it would stay strictly on the other coast. Nobody cared about Talia whatthefuckever, he had assumed. "I can explain that." 

"Darling, you don't even have to explain." He pulled a second newspaper out, again folded back to the obituary section, and passed that over as well.

Will hid his face in Hannibal's neck. "I can explain that, too," he said, muffled against his husband's skin. 

"You seem to be very interested in the state of the young lady's backside; perhaps you were protecting that? And your finger accidentally slipped onto a trigger?" Hannibal suggested, giving the photograph of Will and Talia a shake, because his hand was most certainly gripping her ass. 

"Alibi, Hannibal, I needed an alibi."

"I wasn't aware groping asses required an alibi."

When the heat of Will's flush finally reached Hannibal's skin, he shook his head. "I hope you got paid well, at least."

"Eight figures, since there was public exposure," he admitted. "It's uh, deposited in a bank in Lichtenstein, and I'll pick it up when we go to the chalet this winter." 

"I see." Hannibal pressed his fingers against his lips. "Would you like to start over, William, and tell me what, exactly, this trip was about?"

"I swear it was just shopping!" Will protested. "It wasn't until I'd already planned the trip to Beverly Hills that I got the contact, and when I called in to decline it, I found out who and where, and I thought... well, I'm already going to be there, why not go ahead and take it on the side, you know?" 

"Mmm." Hannibal's fingers still covered his mouth as he listened to Will's tale-weaving. 

"When I got to the hotel, the details of the job were already waiting for me, and so were the tickets to the red-carpet premiere. So I bought a suit, bought a tie--"

"Yes, I noticed. Red."

Shit. "Yes. Anyway, I bought the suit and tie, got myself all dolled up, and went to the event on Talia's arm, the contact set it all up for me. Soon as we were in Grauman's, I went out, did the job, and went back in. Left with the girl, as you saw, and. Well. I went shopping."

"In and out, just like that." 

"Yes, just like that." 

"No, not just like that." Hannibal slapped the newspaper down. "There was a firefight with the man's bodyguards, who were also killed, by a long-range sniper rifle and moly-coated .308 rounds." 

"Yes, and?" He knew very well and what.

"And I remember that a certain contract killer I used to hire before our wedding liked to use a long-range .308 with moly-coated rounds."

Will shrugged. "Collateral damage?"

"You could've been shot!" Hannibal shouted.

"Not at that range, not with their aim." It slipped out before he thought; he was quite aware that was probably not what was going to calm Hannibal down or win the argument.

"Will." Hannibal was trying to stay calm. "You could've been shot, caught, or killed."

"Like you couldn't be?" Will pointed out. 

"I can take care of myself," Hannibal groused. 

"And I can, too. Remember who you married, big man." Will raised his eyebrows. "Remember the cold hard cash you poured into my pocket before we got hooked up together? How many dead bodies did I drop for you?"

"That's hardly the point."

"That's entirely the point." Will turned on Hannibal's lap so he could glare face to face. "Just answer the question, Hannibal."

"I don't remember."

"I do. Twelve. Twelve dead bodies in five years, and then you finally got your ass around to proposing. A ring on my finger doesn't mean I can't pull a trigger," Will reminded. 

"Have you done other contracts before that I didn't know about?"

"Of course I have, honey."

Hannibal's fingers crinkled and crumpled the obituary page of the newspaper. "How many?"

"Since we got married, or recently?" Another inward cringe, because he didn't imagine that was going to make Hannibal any happier.

"Recently. As in the last two years." Hannibal was almost afraid to hear the answer. 

"Four. One in New York, one in LA, two in DC a year apart. Combined, I pulled in north of forty million. After I married you, my price tag almost doubled."

"And since we got married?"

"Ten, since we've been married, including the four I just told you about." He sighed. 

Hannibal just shook his head. "I might be having a retroactive heart attack." 

Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal's neck, laying his head on Hannibal's chest. "Nope, it's ticking along just fine to me." Then he looked up at his husband, who was looking a bit pale around the edges. "You should know that I always come home to you, right? Every time, I've come home safe, back to you, because I got something to come home to. I never had that before; not before you."

Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will and held on tightly. "You scare the hell out of me when you say things like that. It's like you're tempting fate and daring it to take you away." He stroked Will's hair in the tight embrace. "I thought you stopped. I honestly thought you stopped when we got married, because you married me." 

"And you wanted to believe it so much, I let you." Will kissed Hannibal's chest through his shirt. "But it just never happened to work out like that. I kept getting calls, and I turned down the most of them, but a few of them, I took." 

"Why? Are you bored? Is your life here not enough?" Hannibal kept Will tucked in his lap, not sure he wanted to hear the answers. "Do I bore you?"

"Hannibal, no. It's not about you, okay? It's about me. I love you, but I can't just sit here all the time being a primped and pampered wife. I have my own job to do, and sometimes I have to do it."

"What was it about, then? Money? More shopping money, more spending money? Those four thousand dollar shoes?" He tightened his grip. "Planning an emergency fund in case you have to leave me?" 

"It's not about the money. It's about me, Hannibal, needing to do something with my life. You make me happy, and I will stay with you for as long as you'll have me, but." His fingers tugged at the ends of Hannibal's hair. "You have to understand that I'm not going to sit home and eat chocolates all day." 

"Is it every shopping trip?"

"No. Just some of them. Do you want to know which they are ahead of time?"

Hannibal's eyes were closed. "No. I don't."

"I won't take any more public exposure jobs," he promised. He kissed each one of Hannibal's closed eyes, willing him to keep them closed for a while longer. "But I've got another contract coming up, I'm leaving next week."

Hannibal kept his eyes closed, but his grip was almost bone-breakingly hard. "No." 

"You can come with me, if you want," Will offered. "It's down in the Keys, and we could take a boat to Cuba. Just imagine, nightclubs in Havana, cigars and red lights and loud music, just for a few days, and we come back home much richer." 

"No," Hannibal said again. "I'm not going, and I don't want you to go."

"I'm not going to turn it down," Will said. "It's already set. I haven't collected on it yet, but I will before I go."

"How much?"

"Seven."

"Million?"

"Yes."

"You're going cheap," Hannibal shook his head, and opened his eyes. "What's the job?"

"Convention at a big hotel in the Keys. The seating chart has my guy by the window for the noon seminar on cholesterol binding to heart proteins or some bullshit. I wait for his head to pop up in my crosshairs, I squeeze a trigger, it's done. Not a big job, not a big price tag." 

"How much do you have in Lichtenstein?"

Will sighed. "There's fifty million there, waiting for transfer to the Swiss account and the Caymans. Soon as I transfer it, they'll start administering the interest, which is re-invested in the bank itself." 

"In total?"

"About as much as you," Will answered after a moment.

"About as much as me." Hannibal got up at that, letting Will slide off his lap and into the leather armchair alone. "So you're not really a trophy wife after all."

Will got up and went to lean against Hannibal's back, rubbing it softly. "Not... not in the strictest sense, no. But there's nobody else's arm I'd be candy for, you know. Come on, sit back down, let me get you a drink." 

"I know." Hannibal turned around and gave Will a kiss on the forehead. "You're quite lovely to offer, but I have to go to work. I promised a late meeting. Don't wait up." 

"Hannibal--" Will shook his head and watched as Hannibal paused to put his jacket on, buttoning it up and picking up his keys from the rack by the counter. 

"I'm sorry, I forgot to get the dry cleaning today; I'll bring it home tomorrow, all right?" Hannibal opened the fridge and took out nothing more than a bottle of water, which he unscrewed and chugged from deeply. "Sweet dreams, Will."

The slam of the door leading to the garage was loud, and Will sighed. He went to the bar to make his own drink, and nearly dropped the tumbler when a loud booming kettle drum rattled the windows. 

"Jesus fucking Christ, really?" Will dropped three ice cubes into his glass and poured three fingers of bourbon, downing it quickly and refilling it. He expected the music to die off after Hannibal pulled out of the garage, except it didn't fade. 

Creeping--though really, he could've been a herd of elephants and still not been heard--to the door, he peeked through the little glass window. 

The sound of his eyes rolling could've been heard three counties away. 

Hannibal's Lexus was still sitting in the garage, engine not even running--at least the stupid ass wasn't trying to kill himself--but the battery on, blaring... was that Wagner? Yep, that was Wagner's Ride of the Fucking Valkyries blaring through the expensive stereo system Hannibal had bought for the car. 

Across Hannibal's lap, tucked up over his shoulder, was one of the dresses Will had sent out to the dry cleaner. Bright red with black stripes on the skirt, the sweetheart bodice fit him nicely and brought out the corset-curve of his waist and hips. Although currently, it was being used as a goddamn pocket hanky as Hannibal cried on it. 

Not tears, not like any other human being. But silently shaking shoulders, with the occasional single tear sliding down his cheek or off the tip of his nose.

Forty minutes. That's how long Will let it go on. Forty goddamn minutes. He'd meant to only leave thirty, but he'd gotten distracted doing some business on the telephone. 

And it was still Wagner. He didn't know how long the whole Ring cycle was, but he was willing to bet there were hours more sulking to go if he didn't say something. And he wasn't going to sit through the whole goddamned opera. 

So he tried the telephone first. He let it ring for thirty rings straight. He counted. And then he counted off twenty more. And then he very calmly hung the phone up, placed it calmly on the charger base, walked calmly to the garage door, calmly opened the door, and kicked the ever-living shit out of Hannibal's driver's side door.

Hannibal nearly jumped through the sunroof at the kick to his door. He turned the ignition off, which brought blessed silence descending on the garage, and he tossed Will's dress into the back seat, like he hadn't even been holding it. 

Will ignored that, and tapped on the glass. "Get your ass back in the house, Hannibal."

"But I--"

"Have had more than enough time to sulk." Will pointed. "Into the house, now." 

"--have a late meeting--"

"That you made up on the spot. You've been out here for the last forty-five minutes wibbling along to Wagner's Ring cycle, and I'll be damned if I hear it all night long." His finger was still pointing to the house.

Reluctantly, Hannibal got out of the car, carefully inspecting the door to see if Will's boot had left a dent or a smudge. No dent, luckily, but there was a smudge of black rubber, and he bent to rub it off. 

"Hannibal. I will come out tomorrow and scrub the car with a toothbrush in a belly shirt and thong if you will get in the goddamn house before I strangle you."

Given his size and irritation factor, Will was one of the people in the world who could probably actually carry through on that threat. So Hannibal sighed and went back to the house. 

"Sit," Will said, pointing to the big brown leather chair, as he stopped by the bar. He refreshed his own drink, and built Hannibal's martini in the silver shaker, then brought both shaker and glass over. He put the glass in Hannibal's hand, poured it full, and let an olive drop in. "Shaken, not stirred, Mr. Bond." He draped himself over Hannibal's lap and looked up at him. "Well?"

Hannibal stared at his drink, but didn't take a sip of it. "I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you," he said moodily. 

"Hannibal, do you know when the last time was I actually needed to make a withdrawal?"

"Last week?"

"Two weeks before we got married. Because I wanted to buy you the goddamn yacht for the honeymoon." 

Hannibal blinked. "You were the anonymous gifter?"

"Yep. But you're missing the big picture here, darling."  
"And what big picture is that?"

"That since we've been married, I haven't touched my money. Except to deposit my fees. Do I need to repeat that, Mister Mope?" Will ran a finger over Hannibal's lower lip. "I haven't had to touch my money since before we got married because you have been taking care of me."

Hannibal looked down at Will. "But you don't need me, not really. You're just socking it away for what?" 

"The defense lawyer for when I kill you," Will said thoughtfully. "Hannibal, you ass. You're not that old and neither am I. Don't you think we're going to have a child? Adopted, surrogated, there's a fuckload of options and don't you think, I mean, just maybe think, that it'd be awesome to have something to leave the kid that's all theirs? Not tied up in the business, but theirs free and clear?"

Hannibal looked down thoughtfully at his wife, draped across his lap. "You're actually planning on children? With me?"

"Sure as hell won't be with the Easter Bunny," Will answered, trying not to laugh. Because Hannibal was serious. "Honey, you have got to listen to me. You are the one taking care of me. Free and clear, 100% your responsibility. The bills come in your name, the credit cards, everything. You stock the bar, I make the drinks." He stroked Hannibal's wrist, and slowly up his arm. "You are all I need. I need you, nobody else. But what I do, it's just to keep me sharp and to plan for the future, all right?"

"You're seriously planning on a family."

Obviously this was not penetrating any time soon. "Yes. I am. Maybe in the next five years or so."

"Five years? That soon?" He stroked his fingers through Will's hair. "You're serious. And you'll let me take care of both of you?"

"The diaper changes and 2 AM feedings are all yours, Hannibal."

"Hmm." He was quiet for a long few minutes, just stroking slowly through Will's hair and ignoring the drink in his hand. 

Will was quiet, calm, and patient. But if he came over it one more time, he was really going to throw something. Like the martini shaker. Through the closest window.

"You're not just... you're not just saying these things to make me happy?" he finally asked. "You mean them?"

"I mean every word," Will confirmed, sitting up and facing his husband. "Tomorrow, in fact, you can go out and buy me something shiny and ostentatious, if that will make you feel better. But I mean every word. I like it when you look out for me, Hannibal. It's how I know you love me, right? Everything I WANT, much less NEED, you practically hand-deliver on a silver platter. Just because you can. I could pull a Salome and ask for the head of John the Baptist and you'd just ask where we keep the serving platters."

"How about the head of Matthew Brown?"

"You leave Matthew out of this. He's already penciled in as babysitter."

"He's not babysitting my children, William."

"Well, he can babysit my children, then."

Hannibal scowled. "Your children are my children."

"Now you get the picture, when it's all about killing people you don't like," Will chided. "Just give in already. Matthew is the perfect babysitter, he'll kill anyone that upsets the kids, and he won't spoil them." 

"No." Hannibal was rock-firm in that. 

"We'll see," was Will's final word on the subject, which meant Hannibal could just suck it up and deal with Matthew the babysitter.

Hannibal left that disturbing subject alone, and nuzzled into the side of Will's neck. "Maybe I could take a few days off. Cuba does sound like a lovely trip for the both of us, and I would love to show you off when we tango." 

Will's eyes lit up. "I'll buy the roses if you'll bring your dance shoes."

Hannibal smiled against his wife's neck, cuddling him in close. "I'm sorry. I overreacted."

Will had to fight to keep his face straight, and could not speak for a long few minutes. When he finally could get words out without laughing, all he could manage was, "I noticed, but it's okay. I love you no matter what." 

"Better pack those four thousand dollar shoes, and those boots. Because I know just what to buy you to match those shoes. In fact, I'm taking you this weekend for something exquisite and low cut, to show it off." Hannibal made a few thoughtful noises as he considered. "Yes, I know just the thing."

Will wondered how many diamonds it was going to have, and how far down it was going to go. Knowing Hannibal, it'd be an ostrich collar with diamonds and platinum and Christ knew what else. But, if buying something like that made him feel better about Will needing him, then Will was willing to go along with it. "As long as you let me pick you out something too."

"I do need a new watch," Hannibal mused.

"I was thinking more in terms of a new wedding band. Maybe a vow renewal when we get back. Invite everyone, have a nice, lavish party in the back garden and everything." 

"I think that would be wonderful," Hannibal agreed. Between the other women, and now this, Hannibal was in serious need of reassurance, and there was nothing more reassuring than your wife asking you to marry him all over again. "If that is a proposal, then my answer is yes." 

"Technically, you're supposed to propose to me, but yes, it was a proposal." Will knew exactly what Hannibal was feeling, and knew exactly what would make him feel better. "You start working on the guest list, and by the time we get back from Havana, we'll be ready to pick out invitations and save the date cards. And then afterwards, we'll have Margot and Alana over for dinner, and we'll talk to them frankly about the clinic they used, and start doing a little research." 

Hannibal's arms tightened around Will's waist at the mention of Margot and Alana, because they'd had two children now, and yes, they would be the logical ones to consult. "Are you sure?" is all Hannibal asked. 

"Yeah, of course I'm sure. We've got a lot of decisions yet to make, Hannibal. But it's time we started taking steps towards making them." He rubbed a hand over Hannibal's arms, loving the strength which held him tightly on his husband's lap. "Some of them might not be easy, but we'll make them together."

"And if I'm overreacting, you have my full permission to kick my car door again." 

Will had to laugh at that. "If you overreact again, it's not your car door I'm gonna be kicking." 

The End


	7. mafia wife will graham-lecter gets a spanking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what it says on the tin.
> 
> TW: Spanking, obviously. Also, Daddykink a mile wide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: spanking  
> tw: daddy kink

The Don circled his wife. He was pleased to have such a beautiful wife, period, and he was deadly as a cobra. But he was also kind, loving, and sometimes delicate, even though Hannibal knew he'd be in trouble if he voiced that thought. But at the moment, the only thing he thought was beautiful. 

Will was currently bent over a wood bar, legs spread wide as his shoulders and shackled by the ankles, arms spread along the bar and attached to cuffs at the wrist. The highlight of the scene, for Hannibal, was… several things, actually, but his particular favorite were the black stilettos that kept Will's ass raised up high, and Hannibal stroked his hands over those firm, taut cheeks.

"H-Hannibal," Will stammered out, body slick with sweat and oil. "Please."

Hannibal's grip on Will's ass tightened, kneading the cheeks and spreading them wide before pressing them in together. "I'm sorry, darling, did you say something to me?" His fingers teased the stretched opening without penetrating.

"Daddy, please!" Will's voice rose a bit at the teased penetration. "Please, Daddy!" 

Hannibal rewarded Will by pressing his middle and index fingers into Will's hole without mercy. "What does my little princess want?" His free hand slapped Will's ass hard, leaving a red mark. He gasped himself when he felt Will's opening clench around his fingers at the spank.

"Daddy's thick cock," Will groaned, his thighs and calves straining against the heels and shackles as Hannibal's fingers pushed in and pulled out roughly. 

When Hannibal heard the request, his chest tightened. His hand came down again, on the other cheek this time, and he kneaded the handprint left behind. "Didn't Daddy promise to stripe your legs red, princess? For teasing me?" Will keened wordlessly, hips wriggling as much as he could move, but Hannibal pulled his fingers out entirely. "Well, boy?"

"I'm sorry, I promise I won't tease you again." 

Hannibal's hand cracked down again, hitting the split between the cheeks this time. "That's a lie, because you're teasing me right now. You tease me with your very existence, Will. Because every time you walk into my office and show off whatever you've bought, the heels, the tight dress that shows the curve of your hip, the roundness of your ass. Those beautiful strong shoulders, a new manicure that tells me my back is going to be scratched raw." He walked around again, and kissed each one of Will's sharpened nails. "You're a walking tease, my darling, and you damn well know it." 

Will's laugh was quivery, but definitely amused. "Can't help… you're hungry for your little princess, Daddy." 

Hannibal growled softly, and his hand spanked Will twice, once on each cheek, and then once more, down where the swell of his ass joined strong legs. A pinch to that crease made Will jerk, and Hannibal soothed it with gentle strokes. He kissed his apology into Will's skin, his tongue licking over the red pinch mark. 

His tongue crept over, sliding over Will's cheeks and stealing a quick swipe into his opening. Then he kissed down the back of Will's thighs, feeling the strain, and his hands came up to massage the taut muscles. "You have no idea, Will, how hungry you make me feel." Hannibal bit hard on Will's cheek, and tugged the soft skin between his teeth. "Going to make you feel me every time you sit down, one way or another." 

Will was struggling against feeling confined, fighting the instinct to pull away from the slaps on his skin. He was already feeling warm from the first few spanks, and his he knew his skin was glistening from the sweat. "I'm sorry, Daddy, I'll be good, I promise." 

"Just be yourself, that's all Daddy ever wants from you." Hannibal moved in close behind Will, so that Will could feel Hannibal's cock pressing against him. "But Daddy made you a promise, and he's going to keep that promise." He slipped his fingers into Will's hole again, stroking deep. "But Daddy loves your legs, princess, the way they look in thigh-highs and fishnets and those gorgeous heels, so he's not going to stripe your legs after all. He's going to stripe your firm little ass." 

He moaned at the firm strokes of Hannibal's fingers in his ass, and shuddered hard when Hannibal rubbed a hard cock against his ass. "Don't be mean, Daddy," Will said softly, batting his eyes as best he could. "I know you're not a bad Daddy." 

Why he enjoyed Will calling him Daddy, Hannibal did not know. It was just a deep, visceral pleasure every time he heard it, and he encouraged it with deeper strokes, and loving pets. "Mmm, no, I'm sorry, you can't sweet talk your way out of this one." He kept his fingers pushed in, and let his other hand fall in a loud spank.

Will cried out in surprise when Hannibal's hand fell sharply on his ass, and then a second cry with the second spank. "Daddy!"

Every cry of "Daddy!" was rewarded with a hard thrust of Hannibal's fingers. His hand stung a bit with every slap, and he knew Will's ass was stinging equally as much, because he could feel the heat starting to rise from the reddened flesh. His hand caressed Will's skin after every spank, rubbing he sting away and pressing the heat back in. 

The loud smack of hand on flesh had Will jerking in the shackles, trying to move away or into the falling strokes. But Hannibal's fingers buried in his ass kept him still, held him in place for every one of the hard spanks. The longer Hannibal spanked, the harder Will cried out for "Daddy!" until "Daddy, stop!"

Hannibal stopped. Instantly. He drew his fingers out, and used both hands to massage the hot flesh. The key to Will's shackles were hanging around Hannibal's neck, and he used it on Will's ankles first, then his wrists, and steadied him carefully as he stood up. "Ssh," Hannibal murmured and swept him up off his feet, carrying him over to the bed and laying him gently on his stomach. "Let Daddy look after you." 

Kneeling by the side of the bed, Hannibal eased off the black heels, and kissed the sole of Will's foot, then the ankle, and repeated for the other foot. His fingertips gently massaged the trim calves and strong thighs, working his way up to the small of Will's back and avoiding his ass for the moment. 

Beside the bed, Hannibal had left a jar of *La Mer* Crème de la Mer especially for this, and he unscrewed the lid with one hand. "Cold," he warned softly, and carefully applied the silky smooth cream on Will's red flesh. 

Will sighed softly as the cold penetrated his hot flesh, and he folded his arms under his cheek. "Daddy loves me," he teased gently, bringing one leg up and brushing his toes over Hannibal's cheek. Hannibal's strong fingers kneaded the flesh, a deep ache that was soothed by the massage. La Mer kept his skin smooth and supple, and it helped to cool the heat and keep anything from being deeply damaged. 

"Yes, I do," Hannibal murmured, slick hands sliding back over Will's legs. A second coat of La Mer on Will's ass, and then he worked upwards, over shoulders that were slightly red from strain, but still very beautiful. "Let me have your arm." He worked his hands down Will's arms, and dipped into the jar again for the marks on Will's wrists. "I'm going to pad those things before we try this again," he murmured in disapproval, not at all happy with how the shackles had chafed Will's skin. 

"It's fine, Hannibal," Will murmured sleepily. "Doesn't even hurt."

"It hurts me." He kissed Will's pulse point carefully, then tended to his other wrist as well, working back up the opposite arm to the other shoulder. 

"Don't let it." Will reached out and caught Hannibal by the wrist, and then the face, pulling him down for a kiss. "Couldn't ask for a better Daddy," he said against Hannibal's lips, curving in a slight grin. "Or a better husband, Don Lecter." 

Hannibal growled softly, which was Will's intention, and he climbed onto the bed and tugged Will into his lap, still on his stomach. Will's cheek was pillowed on Hannibal's soft little stomach, and Will put his arms around Hannibal's waist, snuggling in between his husband's strong thighs. 

"Give me about half an hour, Don, and you can show me just how much you love me." 

End


	8. mafia wife will graham-lecter does Netflix & chill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's convinced Hannibal to do the Netflix. The Don is more interested in the chill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: cross-dressing  
> tw: daddykink a mile wide.

The big white lounger couch was the perfect size. Hannibal had enough room to stretch out full-length, and Will had more than enough room to stretch out on top of Hannibal while they watched the biggest damn TV Hannibal could've found. 

Tonight, they were watching Netflix at Will's request--"Daddy, I want to, I'm way behind on Daredevil and Jessica Jones comes out at the end of the month." 

"Of course, darling. Anything you want." Hannibal's eyes were going to bleed out of their eyesockets, and his brains were leaking out of his ears. But Will was enjoying it, and Hannibal was enjoying Will's enjoyment. But his mind wandered between episodes, and so did his hands. 

The first time his hands squeezed Will's ass, Will wriggled on top of him and shushed him. "Stop, I'm watching!"

The second time, his fingers worked under the little white teddy and into the frilly lacy panties underneath it, and Will reached down and slapped his wrist. "Daddy, stop!" But he was a little breathy when he demanded it, and Hannibal stopped only because Will did seem to be actively watching the show. 

And then he got bored again. So he grabbed a double handful of Will's ass, kneading it gently. Will's back arched, and he whined, trying to fumble for the remote. "Stooooop," he pouted, but Hannibal's fingers didn't stop their massaging, or their wandering. 

"Do you realize that I have laid here, quietly, as your mattress, for five episodes?" Hannibal asked mildly, working his fingers under the frilly lace of the teddy. "Gladly, because you are gorgeous when you're happy, but have pity on a dirty old man, Will." He rolled his hips, and let his erection press against Will's thigh. "Do you see what you do to me, just lying here and letting me look at you?" 

Will was moaning softly as Hannibal's fingers worked their way further between his cheeks. "I see, Don Lecter," he breathed softly, pushing his lower body down against Hannibal's cock while the lace of his teddy rubbed against Hannibal's bare chest. 

Hannibal let his fingers tangle in the lace, and he pulled it back, letting the scratchy lace rub directly over Will's opening. Back and forth in tantalizing rhythm until Will's hips were shuddering, trying to hump against the lace while it chafed his hole and his cock at the same time. "Say it again, Will, please," he murmured softly. 

"Yes, Don Lecter." The words fell easily from Will's mouth, and his lips were parted, tongue barely creeping out to lick them wet. 

Hannibal let go of the lace, and brought his hand up to Will's face. Drawing him down, Hannibal pushed himself up enough to meet him in a kiss, licking Will's lips before letting his tongue slide into Will's mouth. Will's hands grabbed Hannibal's face, keeping their mouths sealed together as he hungrily kissed his husband. 

Hannibal pulled his mouth away, leaving Will's lips full and wet. "Here," he murmured, and pressed his middle and index fingers against Will's lips. "Get them wet for me." 

Will whined softly at being denied the kiss, but the fingers were a close second. His mouth closed around them instantly, sucking hard and lavishing the digits with his tongue. He rested his hands on Hannibal's belt, gripping the leather hard as he rubbed his cock against Hannibal's hidden one. His tongue lapped at the perfectly manicured fingernails, teeth skimming over the knuckles, gently feeling the dips, loops, and whorls of his fingerprints. Every suck and lap of his tongue had Hannibal's cock throbbing, and Will could feel the twitching through Hannibal's clothes. 

The hand not being attended by Will slipped into the teddy, seeking out hard nipples to pinch. Hannibal's fingernails skimmed over his skin, and he changed direction, coming up from underneath to rub his thumb over Will's navel, then dip in to tease penetration. 

Will's head fell back at the scrapes to his nipples, and Hannibal's fingers slipped out of his mouth. Groaning softly, Will reached between his legs and unsnapped the crotch of the lingerie, leaving just the lacy white panties and his garter belt. "Rip them off, Daddy, please," Will begged, writhing on Hannibal's lap and rubbing hard against his cock. "Want to feel you." 

Hannibal didn't need any further persuasion; his fingers yanked roughly, the fragile lace tearing down the seams as it fell away in shreds. Will's cock was hard and weeping, and Hannibal stroked it with his wet fingers, slicking them further with precome. "Lean forward, baby boy," he encouraged, pressing down the small of Will's back with the heel of his hand. 

Will didn't hesitate to let Hannibal guide him, and as he leaned forward, his knees fell to either side of Hannibal's hips. He was straddling his husband, his cock trapped between lace and hairy stomach, and Hannibal's fingers were pressing into his opening. A sharp cry slipped out as both fingers slid inside at once, and his sharp manicured nails dug furrows in Hannibal's chest. 

Hannibal grunted deeply at the scratches to his chest, and his hips bucked up hard. His fingers drove in roughly, pulling out to almost the fingertips before driving back in. His hands were full of Will's asscheeks, kneading them apart and pushing them together around his fingers. 

Will's nails dug gouges as he hung on to Hannibal's chest and shoulders. Thin lines of red trickled from the deep crescents, and Hannibal encouraged it. He moved roughly against Will's cock, feeling the wet precome tangle and mat in his body hair. He rolled his hips so Will would have reason to dig deeper, hold on tighter, and his fingers were sliding in and out of his hole even as Will tried to push back and draw them in further. "Daddy, please," he whimpered, not even sure what he was asking for. 

"I have you, Daddy's got you," Hannibal reassured, letting go with one hand to wrap an arm around Will's waist. "Daddy's going to take care of his little princess." 

Will cried out again, burying his face in Hannibal's neck and peppering his skin with hot, frantic kisses and licks. That pressed his cock harder into Hannibal's skin, the hair scraping across the hard flesh teasingly and feeling like tiny fingers grasping and stroking over him. 

Hannibal added a third finger in, keeping them bunched together as he stroked hard, seeking just the right angle to send Will into screaming orgasm.

He found it a few strokes later, feeling Will's teeth bite sharply into his neck. One hand pressed the back of Will's head down. "That's right, mark Daddy, show everybody that Daddy's little princess loves him." Will's hips bucked, pushing into Hannibal's fingers and biting down again. The head of his cock rubbed Hannibal's navel, and when he was sure Will wasn't moving, Hannibal wrapped his fist around Will's cock and stroked. 

It was fireworks exploding behind Will's closed eyes as he came. The salty tang of Hannibal's skin was fresh on his tongue, and his cock was jerking out streams of hot come. It smeared between their bodies, staining the filmy teddy as well as Hannibal's slacks. His entire body went stiff, arched to breaking, and then soft and yielding as he pressed himself against Hannibal's body.

Hannibal's arms were firm and strong around Will, keeping him cradled safe and warm against his chest. "Did that feel good?" he asked smugly, knowing the answer damn well. 

"I think the answer to that is currently drying on your stomach," Will said, somewhere from the vicinity of Hannibal's neck, and turned his head so that he could nibble Hannibal's ear. 

That just made Hannibal grin, and tighten his grip on Will. His hand gripped his wrist at the small of Will's back as he squirmed. "Comfortable?"

"Not with your dick poking me in the stomach," he pointed out, and went to reach for Hannibal's zipper.

"No." Hannibal caught Will's hand and pressed a kiss to the palm, then laced their fingers together. "That was for you, darling, because nothing makes me happier than making you come screaming." 

Will gave a little pout when he was told no, but by the time Hannibal explained it, he was smiling. "You're a sap, Hannibal, but it's why I love you."

Hannibal brought their linked fingers to his mouth and kissed Will's knuckles gently. "Speaking of things digging." He lifted his hip, and picked up the remote. "That was trying to go somewhere that belongs only to you."

Will pretended to scowl at the remote. "Bad Daddy." He thumped Hannibal lightly on the stomach. "I think Daddy needs to be shown who he belongs to again." 

A shiver went through Hannibal at the threat, and he pulled Will in closer. "You promise to make Daddy be good?"

"Mmhmm." Will nodded. "And the first thing Daddy needs to learn is, princess gets everything he wants including…" His hand reached down and massaged Hannibal's hard cock behind his zipper. "…Daddy's fat cock." 

Hannibal's entire body vibrated at the dirty words. He put his hands behind his head, linking his fingers so he wouldn't get in the way. "Anything you want is yours, baby boy, even Daddy." 

Will slid down Hannibal's legs, nimble fingers pulling Hannibal's zipper down even as he got into position. "That's how you be a good Daddy," Will said approvingly, running the tip of one manicured nail over the head of Hannibal's cock, already peeking out of the foreskin. "Daddy's hungry." 

The feel of the sharp nail dragging over his cock made Hannibal moan softly, and watched down the length of his body as his cock twitched. Will did it a second, and then a third time, just to hear him moan softly. "See, this is what I mean. You're a very bad Daddy. Because Daddy needs to take care of himself, or let his little princess do it, because what he needs is important, too." Will's voice was serious as he looked at Hannibal. "Do you understand me?"

The obvious concern for him made a warm flush suffuse his entire body, giving his skin the faintest tinge of pink under the tan. "I understand, princess," he murmured softly, and he held out one of his hands. 

Will nuzzled into the offered hand, let Hannibal's thumb stroke over his lips, and then he kissed the palm before pushing it back over Hannibal's head. "Then let me take care of my Daddy." 

Hannibal nodded, and put his hand back behind his head. He couldn't take his eyes off Will, though, sighing softly when Will's mouth engulfed the head of his cock. His fingers tightened against each other, wanting to slide through Will's hair, grab hard, squeeze tight, pull and yank and demand. But he didn't; Will wanted to take care of him, and he wasn't going to ruin that. 

"Will," he said softly, biting his lower lip. "I'm already close--"

"I don't care." Will squeezed the base of Hannibal's cock, then mouthed each of his balls in a sloppy kiss. 'I'm not, I can do this all night." His mouth returned to the hard shaft, and he licked the length before swallowing it down to the root. 

Hannibal's hands dug into the arm of the lounger, and he couldn't help lifting into Will's mouth. Will was slow, careful to lick and suck and nibble only until Hannibal's cock twitched, then stopping. He pulled Hannibal towards the edge with both hands, only to yank him to a stop before he pitched over. His skin was warm and slick, sweating from the heat of denied orgasm. Will's fingers were drawing aimless patters in Hannibal's skin, tugging curly hairs and scratching through with sharp nails. "Please, God, please," Hannibal begged, dropping his arms to grip the sides of the lounge as he tried to push further into Will's mouth. 

Will refused, keeping the same slow, uneven rhythm. He intended this to be as good for Hannibal as it had been for him, and he slid his mouth completely off his cock. Hannibal's belt buckle opened easily, and Will eased down the dark slacks and white briefs, leaving him mostly naked with all of his clothes bunched around his knees. 

His nails dragged over Hannibal's thighs, tickling gently at his balls before cupping them together, blowing a hot breath over the tender sac. Then he dug his nails into Hannibal's ass, pulling him up and swallowing his cock again. He dragged his teeth lightly over the foreskin and shaft, and his tongue licked down the vein that ran along the underside. 

Hannibal came. Without warning, no holding it back, Hannibal shuddered hard as Will pulled away, jerking his cock and directing the spurts onto his face and chest. Will licked his lips, and swallowed all he could reach, and then licked Hannibal's cock until he was clean. 

His hands grabbed Will's wrists, and dragged him up for a kiss. His tongue licked at his own come, tasting himself on Will's skin making his cock throb weakly even though he was nowhere near ready to get hard again. Will obliged turning his head and lifting his chin while making soft, kitten-like whimpers as Hannibal's tongue scraped over his skin. 

When Will was as clean as he could manage, he laid back down on the lounge, pulling Will on top of him and cuddling him in as close as possible. "Thank you," he said in Will's ear, thumbs sliding over Will's shoulders and back. 

Will gave him a sexy, impish grin. "Told you, princesses get everything they want, even Daddy's come." 

Hannibal groaned. "You're going to be the death of me, you know."

"Never." Will nestled in close. "But I am going to give you a bath before we get stuck together."

End


	9. A/B/O AU: Mafia Wife Will Graham-Lecter and the somnophiliac conception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal makes love to his sleeping wife.

The Don couldn't sleep. Which was not at all an unusual state of affairs. He was, more often than not, at least somewhat insomniac, but he did try to stay close to the bedroom because of Will. His Omega was exhausted. The fertility clinic had been exhausting for both of them, but for Will more than himself. Every hole Will had had been probed, samples of everything from slick to saliva to semen had been taken. Then as soon as they'd come out of the clinic and gotten into the car, Will had straddled Hannibal there in the front seat, and ridden him hard until they'd knotted. 

And he was tired, too. He was tired of breeding benches and collars, tired of suppositories and slick enhancers and synthetic Alpha hormones. He was tired of feeling like he was failing his wife, and he was doubly tired of his wife feeling like he was a failure because of Hannibal's Alpha swimmers not being up to snuff. He was not surprised that Will was exhausted, and he stroked gently through Will's hair, not wanting to wake him up. 

But he seemed to be sleeping deeply enough to sleep through a nuclear bomb going off. Too much had happened this week, from the clinic to the normal grind of work and life on top of their nearly desperate attempts to conceive. 

He just wanted Will. That's all. Alpha wanted his Omega, and he leaned over, kissing the back of Will's neck and just breathing him in. 

Even in his sleep, Will was scenting sadness. 

Hannibal drew his Omega closer, wrapping his arms and his legs around the smaller body and keeping him close. He wanted to imprint his scent on Will, give him something to replace the sadness seeping out of every pore. He kissed Will's neck again, nuzzled his face into Will's nape, rolled his hips so that he was completely surrounding and pressed against his wife's body. 

It didn't help. Hannibal could clearly smell the tears not being shed forcing themselves out through Will's pores, and he wanted to bite and shake and demand and rip and tear and lick. 

Instead, he kissed. He kissed Will's shoulder, lifted one insensate arm and kissed the back of his hand, his fingers, his palm, then laced their fingers together. His knees tucked behind Will's, his feet covered Will's cold ones, and his own scent started to mingle with and even echo his wife's sadness as he couldn't find the right thing to fix it. 

In his sleep, Will whimpered softly, a single quiet hitched sob that made his shoulders shake. Hannibal felt his throat closing in sympathy, and he pressed his forehead to Will's back. "I love you, Will," he whispered softly. A second little sob, a tremble, and then he quieted. He wondered what Will was dreaming, hoped he found some comfort there that he couldn't find here. 

"Daddy, please." It was breathed softly, almost silently, and the only reason Hannibal heard it was because his ear was pressed to Will's chest. 

"Ssh," Hannibal murmured, quieting the sleeping Omega. "Go back to sleep, darling." He stilled, cradling Will close and stroking his hair. 

There was no response that Will had even heard him, no sign that he had even woken up, and Hannibal wondered how many times Will had talked in his sleep and had gone unheard. Even more reason to stay away and watch him. 

But the soft plea had the same effect on him as if it'd been shouted at the top of Will's lungs. His cock swelled, his knot started to react, and Hannibal pressed his head to the pillow. "Beautiful little Omega." He stroked Will's hair to comfort him, and Will shifted easily into the touches. 

Hannibal felt the wetness against his legs, knew that Will was practically leaking slick by the bucket thanks to the clinic's treatments, and he didn't even need to reach for anything. It was leaking out around the plug that was supposed to keep it in, and Hannibal gently eased the plug out. Will whimpered slightly in discomfort, because the rush of slick tried escaping again, but Hannibal quickly moved and replaced the plug with the head of his cock. 

Pushing in was a soft slide, and Will sighed, the furrowed brow smoothing out when Hannibal's cock filled him. He made a deep, contented noise in his throat, and Hannibal couldn't help the soothing, rumbling purr that matched it. Will's body relaxed at the purr, and Hannibal eased in deeper until the full length of his cock was buried inside his wife. 

He loosened his grip on Will's hand and instead put it on Will's hip, holding him steady as Hannibal pulled out and pushed back in. A soft little cry, and Hannibal thrust again, feeling Will quavering in his arms even as he moved. A quiet growl issued from Hannibal's throat, and even though he was sleeping, Will responded again. He pressed in with a rock of his hips, and Will's opening started rippling around his cock, milking it with every thrust.

Breath caught in his throat, Hannibal's fingertips dug into Will's hip. He had to stop thrusting, letting himself start to breathe again as the scent of arousal finally rose up to replace the sadness that had come before. His body hungered for a fast, hard pace, but his brain didn't want it. He wanted to savor this, to be delicate and careful with his mate as possible, to treat Will like fine porcelain because that's what Will meant to him. 

It was almost like a dream, Will's quietly receptive body and the silence of the deep night, the darkness outside the drawn curtains and the heady feeling of *yes, mine, good* that seemed to pulse in Hannibal's brain with every thrust of his cock. He didn't even know he'd been craving this, making love with no reason other than to bring pleasure to his mate. No tables or record keeping, no charts and cycles and marking down mating times. Just… the chance to love his mate. 

Will rolled in his sleep, lying almost flat on his stomach, splayed out like a starfish. Hannibal rolled with him, hands sliding up his wife's arms, linking their fingers together as he moved gently as he could, determined not to wake Will up. His knot was already inflating, so ready to be pushed inside Will's body and seal it closed. 

Snuffling in Will's hair helped; the scent of arousal was thick and heavy in the air, and he could taste it in Will's sweat. But his hair smelled of coconut and green things, and something flowery that he used to condition his unruly curls into *something resembling human hair,* as he liked to put it. He filled his nose with the scent of shampoo and conditioner instead of Omega arousal and Alpha rut, and he calmed again. 

His heartbeat was pounding in his chest, and his body stiffened when his knot moved easily into Will's receptive body. 

That was enough to wake him up, and Will looked sleepily over his shoulder as he tried to figure out what was going on. He realized it half a second later when Hannibal's knot jerked inside him as he came. Will felt his body squeezing Hannibal's knot, and the muffled grunt of his husband's pleasure. 

"Coulda woke me up," Will said with a yawn, and tried to roll back over.

"Sleep," Hannibal ordered, pulling Will against his chest and moving so they were side by side, back to chest and tied together. "I tried not to wake you up." 

Will brought one of Hannibal's hands down to a hard cock, and he grinned at his husband. "Kinda hard not to wake up with that." 

Hannibal's fist closed gently around Will's cock, stroking it with hard, firm strokes. "I'm going to make you come and then you're going back to sleep, you're exhausted and you need your rest."

"Yes, Daddy." Jaw-splitting yawn, and Will's body was so tightly clamped around Hannibal's knot he couldn't move. 

"That's my princess." He kissed Will's neck again, thumbing the head of his cock while he stroked it roughly. Every twitch of Will's muscles around his knot made Hannibal bite his lip to hold back a cry. 

Will curled back against his Alpha, letting Hannibal's hand on his cock lull him back to sleep. The strokes were luxuriously warm and sensual, and he didn't even roll his hips to push in. He let Hannibal take over. "Love you, Daddy." 

A second orgasm hit Hannibal at the quiet whisper, and his fingers pulled hard at Will's cock. Clamping hard around the knot, Will's body tensed as the sweetly drawn-out orgasm washed over him. A spreading warmth, relaxation of everything except the hole milking Hannibal's knot, and the Alpha quavered. "I love you, Will." 

Will's breathing evened out again, and Hannibal kept him tucked close until the knot deflated, and even then, he kept his Omega against him, inserting the plug one more time and pulling Will to rest on Hannibal's chest. 

\---

The next clinic appointment was a week later, and Will burst out the front door. One of the clinic staff was trailing behind him, trying to catch the papers and books falling out of his satchel, but Will just let the bag hit the pavement and kept running until Hannibal caught him and swept him up in the air. "We're pregnant!!" 

The End


	10. Mafia Wife Will Graham-Lecter and the FBI Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FBI Interlude: Jack Crawford sets his sights on capturing Il Duce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike everyone else in the AU, Jack Crawford is still himself. He's FBI, just not Behavioral Science. He's working the Organized Crime desk. Kade Purnell is Director.

"I want this guy!" Jack Crawford slammed the faceless sketch on the desk in front of him.

"All we have is a code name, _Il Duce_ , and **maybe** the fact that he might be a doctor." Kade Purnell pushed the sketch back to Crawford. "Anyone else who knows anything of note, they disappear."

"I don't care. I want him. Dr. Duce is my way in--the Doctor angle is more we've got than on anyone else." Jack was so worked up, he knew he wasn't making sense. "All we've got are code names, not even how they're connected to each other or anyone else. _Pigmaster, Il Duce, Chinatown, King Radio. Eagle Eye_."

Kade sighed. "Ever thought about going after the _Pigmaster_ angle instead? Name like that, he's probably tied into the Vergers. Meat packers, and they have that huge farm, what's it called--"

"Muskrat Farm. Complete with an army of lawyers just looking for an investigation to obstruct. We need proof, hard and unquestionable, before we go after the Vergers. And we don't even know for certain it's even Verger. Could just be a fat guy."

Purnell sighed. "So what else do we know about this _Il Duce_ character?"

"Italian code name, means 'The Duke.' I've got lists a mile long of anyone and everyone who has even a hint of nobility in their lineage; of those, a couple hundred are doctors or have doctorates. Twelve in New York, three in DC, two in Baltimore, and a handful of others scattered along the East Coast."

"It'll take you years to vet everybody on that list, even the locals."

"Yes, but, he does have to be relatively local. I've got a decent lead on this guy, he's the one I want to look into now." Jack slid another file over. 

The tab was labeled neatly. _Lecter, Hannibal MD._ Opening it, she quickly skimmed through the contents. "Born in Lithuania, mother was Italian, no siblings, married to a Will Graham." She held up the photo taken of the couple at a charity function. "Is it a he or a she?" Because the shape-hugging red dress and stiletto heels spoke to she, the features under all the makeup still spoke masculine.

"He's a he. William Graham-Lecter, works as a private buyer for the Zoom-Boom Room, which Lecter is majority owner of at 85%. Graham's basically arm candy who's major job seems to be burning through Lecter's bank account. Him and Lecter file jointly through a CPA--most of the money is Lecter's. He's inherited a title, a castle in Lithuania, and a troll's hoard of money from his father, plus a diversified portfolio, a trust from his mother's side, and several other businesses, including a part-time psychiatric practice in Baltimore. Four days a week, 9 AM to 1:30, has about twenty patients all told," Jack finished.

"Doesn't sound like he's got time to be a Mafioso, not with everything else he's got going on," Purnell offered.

"Except that he's a doctor with Italian ties," Jack responded.

"Pretty thin," Kade pointed out unnecessarily.

"Well, it's all I have at the moment. Bella's already got an appointment in two weeks--her treatment center set it up. It's total luck she got Lecter instead of Alana Bloom."

"Isn't she married to the Verger sister? With a couple of kids?"

"Just one, Walton Verger. Since Mason as yet has no kids, Walt's in line to inherit everything." 

"Forgot that Alana was a friend of yours."

"Used to be. Now, not so much any more. I send the kid a card on his birthday, get one at Christmastime." 

Kade pushed the Lecter file back over. "Jack, is your relationship with Alana Bloom the reason you don't want to pursue the Verger connection via the Pigmaster code name?"

"Not at all." If Jack was lying, it didn't show. "I just feel like the doctor angle is more promising at the moment. It's concrete evidence. If it doesn't pan out, or if other information surfaces, then I'll certainly shift the focus of the investigation."

"You're walking a fine line, Jack. Be careful, don't tip your hand. I'll send in Lass and Brigham right away."

"Just Miriam for now. I want to keep this small and tight, no leaks. The more people that know, the more likely it is to get out and the harder it'll be to track down the leak."

Kade wished Jack's paranoia was unfounded. "Okay. Keep written reports to a minimum, no email or fax. Hand-deliver to me by you or Miriam Lass only."

"Thanks." Jack rose and walked his boss out with a handshake. Then he went back to his desk, closing the door.

\-----

Purnell shut herself in her office, sent her secretary for coffee, and took a cheap burner cell from the bottom desk drawer. Using a prepaid calling card, she dialed another burner cell.

A lightly accented voice answered. "Yes?"

"They know. They're looking into Lecter."

"Thank you. The usual arrangements are being made." The line clicked, then went dead.

Purnell looked at the photograph of her daughter on the desk and bit her lip. "It's all for you baby."

\-----

Miriam Lass came in after Kade left, and took the still-warm seat across from Jack's desk. "You sure that was smart?"

"A necessary risk. She's in the Director's office, and we can't keep her completely out of the loop. And since she agreed to keep the investigation private in-house, if anything gets out to Lecter we'll know she's the weak link."

"And you really think this Lecter guy is the Duke?"

"I think he's our best target," Jack corrected. He was grasping at straws, and he knew it. But he wasn't about to admit it. "At the moment, I'm looking for anything on anybody."

"You're the Guru. Want me to check the warrants on the phone taps?"

"No, I want you to go home." Jack clasped his hands over the files on his desk. "Get some sleep, because you and I are going fishing," he answered serenely. "We're going to pull every single public record we can get our hands on pertaining to Hannibal Lecter and/or Will Graham, and we're going over them letter by letter until we find something I can use."

Miriam sighed. "I'll bring Starbucks."

The End


	11. Pre-Hannibal interlude:  Frederick/Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Hannibal interlude. Set before Will strikes out on his own. The prompt was "Angry sex." Should be read before chapter 2.

Frederick Chilton was furious. He'd done everything he'd been taught, and the job would've gone without a hitch _if he'd just been given the intel._ Fucking clients had sworn up, down and sideways that Maurice Pettipouch--and what kind of fucked up name was that?--was going to be alone all weekend. 

Instead he'd had to blow the guy's brains out all over his abuelita and her goddamn dogs. Which meant Will was going to bitch him out for traumatizing the dogs and the sweet old lady. 

Kinda made him want to knife up and go carve a pound of flesh out of the clients just so he didn't have to hear it. 

He slammed into the house they'd rented, dragging a black cloud behind him. The case containing his rifle hit the couch and bounced to the floor, jarring the latches open. 

Loose ammo spilled everywhere, and Frederick swore darkly in Spanish. 

"Bad day, Daddy?"

Frederick answered with a snarl, and threw the bullets back into the case before slamming it shut. 

"Oh, that good, huh?" Slipping off the barstool, he offered Frederick the Corona he'd just uncapped, and pushed over a lime quarter on a saucer. 

Frederick deep throated the bottle, Adam's apple bobbing as he chugged the beer down. "Not going to talk about it. Don't want to hear about it," he replied when the bottle was empty. 

"Well fuck you too, then." Will got back on the barstool and reached for the next beer in the six-pack. 

Way. Wrong. Answer. 

Frederick's hand locked around Will's bicep and hauled him off the barstool. "I've had a shitty day, boy, and you really don't want to make it worse." 

Something hot flared in Will's eyes, and he licked his lips. Then he jerked his arm out of Frederick's grasp. "You don't know what I want, _old man_ ," Will sneered in answer. 

"Old man?" Frederick repeated incredulously. 

"You called me boy." Will didn't back down. "You started it." 

"I'm going to finish it." Frederick prowled over, using his wider shoulders and his boatload of pissed off to back Will off the stool and into the corner. 

Will gave in and let Frederick back him into the corner, but stonewalled him with hands flat against his chest. Then, just as Frederick was drawing in a deep breath, Will's nails raked roughly down the front of Frederick's shirt. 

He hissed as the scratches dragged fabric over skin, and when he dipped his head for a kiss, he bit Will's lip sharply. 

Will let slip a little moan, and he didn't protest when Frederick yanked open the robe Will was wearing and grabbed his hard cock. 

"You like it when Daddy's pissed?" Frederick didn't bother waiting, because the answer was in his hand. "Get on your knees." And when he didn't move instantly, Frederick shoved him down. 

Will hit the ground with a thump, his open robe flaring out like red wings. He steadied himself with a hand on Frederick's thigh, and looked up defiantly.

One of Frederick's hands was busy opening his fly; the other twined itself in Will's thick hair and dragged him in close, so that the head of his cock pressed against Will's closed lips. "Make me, Daddy," he got out, mumbling a little behind his closed lips. 

Closing his own eyes, he let his cock fall as he cupped Will's cheek. Then used his thumb to press hard on the hinge of Will's jaw. 

Will put up just enough of a struggle to make Frederick work for it, but he let his mouth open wide. And he didn't have to wait long; almost as soon as he'd opened up, Frederick's cock was front and center. He pushed in almost instantly, his grip knotting tighter in Will's hair as he shoved all the way down Will's throat. 

Will's throat convulsed around the hard length choking him, and he dug his nails into Frederick's ass. Even through the trousers and underwear, Will felt his nails sinking into flesh. 

Frederick grunted at the grip, and gave a little twitch of his hips. His balls slapped against Will's chin, already slick with saliva drooling around his cock. 

Will's teeth scraped the base of the shaft lodged in his throat, and Frederick's fingers tightened in his hair. "Don't. You'll be sorry." But his free hand stroked gently over Will's bulging cheek. 

The pull back was just in time; Will's chest had started to hurt from the lack of deep breaths. He gasped hard, and then Frederick's cock was back in his throat. But he was moving this time, an almost bruising grasp holding him still for the rough face fucking. 

Frederick had thrown his head back as he drove his cock into Will's mouth. He didn't care about what Will's tongue was doing, didn't care about the obscene slurping noises, didn't care about anything except the wet hole he was fucking. 

Will had wrapped his arms around Frederick's waist, and winced when the thrust slammed his head back against the wall. His hair took the brunt of it, but Frederick didn't even look down. His back screamed in protest against the wall, but his cock was dripping and twitching with every breath. 

When he felt the tingling in his balls, Frederick unclamped his hold on Will's head and gripped his cock. Hard, vicious strokes of his cock brought him off, and he cracked open his eyes enough to direct the hot spurts all over Will's face and lips. 

As he finished, Frederick used the blunt head of his cock to rub it into Will's skin, painting his mouth like lipstick. 

He had to clear his throat before he could speak, but he didn't loosen his grip on Frederick. "Better, Daddy?" is all he asked. 

Frederick groaned softly. "You have no idea what a shitty day I've had."

Will gently moved to get to his feet. "Well, I still need taking care of, and you still have aggression to work out. So take me to bed and tell me all about it."

As he followed Will into the bedroom, Frederick reflected that he was really lucky to have Will, because nobody else would put up with his shit. "Right behind you, baby boy." 

End


End file.
